


Broken Mirrors

by JeanJacquesFrancois



Series: Broken Mirrors and Companion Pieces [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 106
Words: 392,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanJacquesFrancois/pseuds/JeanJacquesFrancois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you like them?” Loras Tyrell turned slightly so that Renly could see what he was wearing.</p><p>“The clothes?” Renly clarified.</p><p>“Obviously the clothes.”</p><p>"I do," Renly laughed. "A lot." And seeing that he was still being given the time of day, he decided to push his luck. “But I was wondering, perhaps, if I could potentially see you <em>without</em> the clothes?” </p><p>"Without the clothes?" Loras Tyrell just smirked a little wickedly at him. “I’d suggest Google," he said. “Or, if you don’t like the internet, you could try Cosmo. The second issue in March last year to be precise.”</p><p>Renly laughed. “Well, you know, that’s not really what I had in mind.”</p><p>“Is it not?” There was just a hint of a smile on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“How did you even get tickets for this again?” Renly asked Sansa in disbelief as they walked in past all the flashing cameras and blinding lights. It wasn't them that the paparazzi were taking photos of but it was easy enough to imagine, for even just being there was enough to make Renly feel a little giddy with excitement. Tickets for London Fashion Week were notoriously difficult to get one's hands on and as such, Renly thought he had died and gone to heaven when Sansa had pulled him out of a meeting that very morning whilst waving two bright yellow tickets for the front row in his face.

"Didn't I tell you?" Sansa whispered, glancing sideways at him. “My sister won them in a competition and she said she’d rather pull her teeth out one by one than come.” She gestured around them and Renly knew that if Sansa wasn't so conscious of the famous faces surrounding them then she'd be skipping for joy. “So here we are," she said, her voice barely containing her excitement. "-and if this doesn’t get me a promotion then I don’t know what will.”

Renly laughed. “About that," he grinned, slinging an arm round her and trying not to mess up the hair that he was well aware she'd fussed over the entire way here. "I guess you got a bit of a rough deal there. You’ve got the only boss in my brother's company who sleeping with will get you nowhere. So yes, I'm sure we can find a little bit of a raise for you."

Sansa blushed as red as her hair. It was no secret that she fancied him more than a little bit. That said though, Renly didn’t think he’d had a personal assistant yet who hadn’t fancied him and so he supposed Sansa wasn't alone. She was perhaps the most obvious yet though, and when she'd first got the job, it had been more than a little amusing to watch her come into work gradually wearing less clothes with each passing day just to try and get him to notice her. Eventually, when she'd started to blur that already rather blurry line between a glamorous secretary and a lingerie model a little too much, one of the girls had taken her aside at the water cooler and put her out of her misery.

The line to get in was huge but somehow, Arya Stark- that odd little girl who wouldn't recognise a pair of Louboutins even if someone slapped their red soles in her face- had got her hands on two VIP tickets and so he and Sansa just waltzed right in. Everyone they passed was dressed up to the nines, some opting for glamour whilst others opted simply for bizarre, and Renly had to laugh as he imagined Arya marching in here with the mechanic she was currently dating. From what little he knew of them, Renly imagined that they'd have ignored the dress code entirely and showed up still in their oily overalls from where they'd been working in Gendry's garage. He wasn't quite sure, though, whether they would have been shunned for this or whether their clothes would have been taken as a rather odd fashion statement. It could go either way, Renly mused.

“We even get shown to our seats.” Sansa hissed, leaning heavily on Renly's arm as she could to try hide the fact that she couldn't walk in the stilettos she'd chosen for the occasion.

She was right and within seconds, a very stylish girl holding a cup of coffee came to guide them through the chaos that was London Fashion Week. There seemed to be more cameras than people and everywhere there were models evidently waiting their turn to be made up for the catwalk. They were all wafer-thin, frighteningly so, and Renly reckoned that if he wanted to he would comfortably be able to fit his hands around each of their thighs. Sansa, in comparison, looked practically fat next to them, and Renly prepared himself for the tirade of self-conscious remarks that he knew would no doubt come from her as soon as they were sat down.

"Renly," she indeed started, as soon as they were settled in the front row. "Do you think this dress make my legs look big?"

"Not at all." Renly said, his reflexes serving him well as he set himself to spotting the celebrities amongst the sea of editors and journalists. There were too many to count.

"You didn't even look!" Sansa insisted, poking him in the chest.

Renly just grinned at her. "I don't need to look. I get to see your legs every day. I'm lucky like that."

She looked flattered by his remark but before she could say something back, a man had strolled out onto the catwalk and the words died in her mouth. With a flourish, he drew a piece of paper from one of his pockets and began to announce the list of designers that would be showing. And whilst Sansa would never admit it, Renly knew that she was already memorising the list so that she'd be able to tell anyone who would listen about it afterwards.

Of course, as Renly knew was a certainly at every fashion show, once the compère had finished reading out the designers, he inclined his head apologetically and informed them that they were currently running forty five minutes late. Indeed, nobody who seemed to be anybody appeared to be surprised by this and Renly reckoned a measly forty five minutes was probably pittance compared to how late most shows ran. He supposed that it probably had something to do with having to get so many girls dressed and ready all at once. Even away from the fashion industry, Renly would see three or four of his female employees come in late every day with the excuse that they'd needed to finish their make up or do their hair, and so he reckoned that he could relate a little to the organisers here. All the same, though, he couldn't help but feel a little impatient, and as everyone rose to get drinks to tide the wait over, Renly stood too, pulling Sansa to her very wobbly feet.

"Come on," he laughed. "Let's have a look around. We might as well while we're stuck waiting."

Duly, she followed him as they weaved their way through the crowd

His eyes fell, though, not on the many women, many of whom were milling around in nothing but their make up and their underwear, but on a man that was stood amongst them. He was having some sort of jacket pinned onto him and he looked more than a little bored as he leant casually against the wall, not seeming to care in the slightest that he was making the girl with the pins’ job a lot harder by doing so. And whilst Renly had always thought that models could never be as perfect-looking in real life as they appeared to be in magazines, he was simply forced to eat his words as he stared at this one. He'd seen his fair share of handsome men and yet it was undeniable, this one, even without photoshop or any airbrushing, was the most gorgeous man that he had ever had the fortune to lay eyes on.

“It’s Loras Tyrell.” Sansa breathed, awe thick in her voice as she stared too.

"Of course it's Loras Tyrell." Renly breathed back. "Everybody in the English speaking world could have told me that, your _sister_ could have told me that."

"I wouldn't go quite that far." Sansa whispered, shaking her head and looking a little like she might faint. "But isn't he just stunning?"

“Mmm-hmm.” Renly hummed appreciatively. "Now Sansa, I need you to do something for me?"

"Anything." She breathed.

"Well, you know how you spend all those hours reading magazines at your desk instead of working?"

"Yes," she admitted a little guiltily.

"I need you to put those unproductive hours to good use now and tell me which team Loras Tyrell over there bats for?" A small voice in the back of Renly's mind was telling him that he was in luck here and that Loras Tyrell was indeed gay, but he just needed Sansa to confirm it for him. Even he didn't have the nerve to walk into what could be a certain rejection.

"Both," she said confidently. "He's bi, I'm sure of it. I read an interview with him in February."

"Great." Renly grinned, and without any further ado, he started to head in the supermodel's direction, trying not to bump into any of the very fragile looking girls who blocked his path.

“Wait!” Sansa hissed after him. “We’re not even allowed backstage. You can’t just go up and talk to him!?”

“Why not?” Renly laughed, not even looking back. “I’m sure he’s human.”

Sansa gave up following him then, and when Renly did cast a furtive look back over his shoulder he could see that she was hovering awkwardly at the edge of the sea of models, unable to dare to step foot backstage. She would probably kill him later for abandoning her there, but right now Renly didn't have it in him to care. He was rather more occupied with quite how he was going to go about talking to the gorgeous creature that was now only a few feet away from him. He had always thought that he was rather skilled at making small talk and yet he wasn't quite sure that this talent of his quite stretched to conversing with a man whose face he'd only ever seen on the cover of a magazine or on a billboard. He supposed, though, that he was going to find out.

His approach didn't go unnoticed and Loras Tyrell raised an eyebrow as he got closer. “Can I help you?” He asked lazily, one of his perfect curls falling elegantly over his forehead.

Renly ignored the dismissal in his tone and grinned at him. “Are you appearing in the show later?” He asked, just for something to say more than anything.

Loras Tyrell just looked around him with a frown. “No.” He said, eyebrow arching perfectly with yet more disdain. “I just enjoy having pins jabbed into me in my spare time.”

Renly laughed. “Fair enough. Who are you showing for then?”

“Alexander McQueen.”

Renly grinned and gestured to the masterpiece that was still being pinned onto him. “Can I see?” He asked hopefully.

Renly had fully expected him to say no but he was surprised when Loras Tyrell deigned to stand up properly for him, turning slightly so that Renly could see what he was wearing. The jacket was very nice but for once Renly found he wasn't at all interested in the clothes. Instead, he just sighed as he let his eyes roam up and down the glorious sight before him.

“Do you like them?” Loras Tyrell asked, reaching up to brush one of his curls out of his eyes before he returned to leaning against the wall.

“The clothes?” Renly clarified.

“Obviously the clothes.”

“I do." Renly laughed. "A lot." And seeing that he was still being given him the time of day, he decided to push his luck. “But I was wondering, perhaps, if I could potentially see you _without_ the clothes?”

" _Without_ the clothes?" Loras Tyrell just smirked a little wickedly at him. “I’d suggest Google.” He said. “Or, if you don’t like the internet, you could try Cosmo. The second issue in March last year to be precise.”

Renly laughed. “Well, you know, that’s not really what I had in mind.”

“Is it not?” There was just a hint of a smile on his face.

"No it's not." Renly agreed, risking leaning in a little closer. "I meant it more along the lines of asking you for your number?”

Loras Tyrell frowned at that, a pensive look on his face. Slowly, he looked Renly up and down for a good long moment before he turned. “It’s been nice meeting you.” He said simply, and with that he was gone, disappearing after a couple of very skinny girls through a door that even Renly wouldn't have dared go through.

Taking that as a clear rejection, Renly watched him leave before returning to Sansa.

"Well?" She asked and Renly could see she was resisting the urge to tap her foot like an overbearing mother.

"No luck." Renly sighed as he took her arm to return to their seats. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He imagined that when you were as famous as Loras Tyrell was, you had to deal with random strangers throwing themselves at you all too often. It probably became a chore rather than being flattering rather quickly. That said, Renly couldn't even remember the last time anybody had turned him down and it took all the will power he possessed to not dwell on it any further and return to chatting aimlessly with Sansa as they waited for the show to start.

The first girl had just begun her walk, wearing a very odd dress that seemed entirely unnecessary due to quite how see through the fabric was, when Renly was tapped on the shoulder.

“Excuse me?” A tall brunette whispered in his ear, her hand still resting on Renly's shoulder. “I’ve been told to give you this.” She handed him a piece of paper, disappearing almost instantaneously once Renly had taken it from her as if she had the ability to vanish into thin air.

Curiously, Renly unfolded it. There was a number written on it, and underneath in big slanted handwriting-“ _Call me._ ”

He couldn't help the wide grin that was spreading across his face and, laughing, he just turned to Sansa.


	2. Chapter 2

Renly waited two agonising days to call him. It was torture but if Renly knew anything about dating it was that you wanted to appear casual, aloof even, like you were less interested than you actually were. And since he'd been quite so forward when he'd asked him for his number, he reckoned that he had a serious amount of playing hard to get to do before he could even begin to seem casual. This decision made thus, he'd managed to stop himself calling him over fifty times now, and that little piece of paper Loras Tyrell had given him had been folded and unfolded so many times that it was more creased than Arya Stark's shirts were when Sansa put her foot down and refused to do the ironing that Arya didn't even care about.

Loras' number was barely legible now, and so as soon as Renly got to work that morning, he copied it carefully down onto another sheet, checking and rechecking each digit as he did so.

"You _still_ haven't called him?" Sansa asked incedulously as she watched him do it. "What is wrong with you?" She perched herself on top of the photocopier as usual, crossing her arms and waiting for his answer with a disapproving look on her face. 

“I need to play it cool," Renly laughed. "You tell me that all the time when you go on dates.” It was true, he thought. Sansa was forever debating how long she should wait before she returned a guy's calls, and never had Renly known her to call someone before less than a couple of days had elapsed. 

“Not when the guy in question is a supermodel!" She insisted. "There is no such thing as playing it cool here.”

“No?” Renly laughed. "Why not?"

“Just call him already!” 

"Fine," Renly grinned, and with more nervousness than he would have expected, he picked up the phone and dialled the number, pacing as it rang. 

He answered on the sixth ring. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Renly laughed, trying to keep his cool. _Casual_ , he reminded himself. He needed to be charming and friendly, but not so charming and friendly that he appeared desperate. It was a difficult balance.

“And this is...?” Whether he had a particularly busy schedule today, or whether he was always stand-offish on the phone, Loras Tyrell didn't sound too impressed.

“You gave your number to me?” Renly said hopefully. 

“I did?”

“Yes, at London fashion Week?”

“Oh you’re that guy,” he laughed, and thankfully, he sounded a little less pissed off now. “Well you certainly took your time.”

“It’s been three days," Renly insisted, ignoring Sansa's smug smile as he said that. "Not that long. So, dinner?” he suggested, crossing his fingers.

“I can’t do dinner, but I could do drinks. Would tonight be okay?"

"Sure," Renly agreed, a little taken aback. He supposed he shouldn't have worried about playing it cool, though, and he just smiled as he wrote down the time and place that Loras Tyrell gave him. It was a bar he had heard of, and Renly was glad that he'd chosen somewhere relatively normal. 

He was grinning when he put down the phone. "I officially have a date with a supermodel," he laughed, lifting Sansa off the photocopier and swinging her round.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had rather expected him to be late, celebrity as he was. But he was there when Renly arrived himself, five minutes early and leaning against the bar with a glass of wine already in his hand. He was dressed rather casually in a grey shirt and jeans, a jacket slung carelessly over one arm, and yet Renly knew that if he got lucky enough tonight to see the labels on the inside of Loras' Tyrell's clothes, he would see that he probably wasn't wearing anything with less than a four figure price tag.

“So,” he said, gesturing to a small table in the corner where he evidently hoped they'd have a little bit of privacy. "You never gave me a name?"

"I didn't did I?" Renly laughed. "Well I'm Renly, Renly Baratheon." He ordered a drink from the bar before he sat down to join him. It was a nice spot, tucked away in the corner as it was, but Renly didn't think they would have any privacy at all even so. Already, he could see people staring in their direction. 

“And I’m Loras.”

“I know.” Renly told him, wondering the moment the words were out of his mouth if he perhaps ought not to have said that. He didn't want to appear star-struck, or be one of those people that did nothing but gush about how crazy it was to be sitting opposite someone famous. 

Loras shrugged. “It's only polite." He seemed a little amused.

He was evidently not going to be one of those celebrities who insisted on pretending they weren't famous and so Renly decided he could relax a little. “So, tell me about what you do,” he suggested. He'd seen enough of Loras Tyrell to know that he would probably be as fond of talking about himself as Sansa said he himself was. 

“You know what I do,” Loras laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah but I want details.” Renly insisted. "Lots and lots of details."

"Fine. Let's get it out of the way, shall we," he smirked, a few of his golden curls falling over his forehead. "I make my living by wearing very nice clothes, or occasionally by wearing pieces of fabric stitched together that designers like to _pretend_ are clothes."

Renly grinned at that. He liked high fashion as much as anyone could, but he didn't think that anybody could deny how ridiculous some of the garments that appeared on runways often were. "So," he asked. "Do you ever hate what you're told to wear?"

"I used to, but I've got more freedom nowadays and I can see the collections before I take the job. So I can reject it if there's some really horrible things." He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "So if there's any latex, or lycra, or clothes that are made entirely from safety pins, I have time to run away."

"So what's been the worst then?" Renly asked, making a mental note to google pictures of him on the runway as soon as he got home. It could be a task he gave to Sansa seeing as she was useless anyway. 

"Um, I'd say it has to be this designer I walked for in New York once. He was trying to make a statement about the environment or something, and so every item in his collection was made of foil." He grimaced as if he was recalling rather unpleasant memories. "Foil is surprisingly scratchy," he added.

Renly just laughed. He had to make a conscious effort not to picture the man opposite him in nothing but foil. He wasn't quite sure whether he'd be just very confused, or whether he'd be a tiny bit turned on. 

"But," Loras said. "Enough about me, what about you? Where do you live, where do you work?"

“Well I have a flat in central London, and I’m a lawyer for my brother's company.” Renly admitted, wishing now that he did something more interesting. "I deal with all the legal stuff that he doesn't understand or rather that he doesn't care about."

“Seriously?" He genuinely looked surprised. "You don’t look like you do that.”

“Why not?" Renly laughed.

Loras shrugged. “I don’t know. You looked kind of... well, _fun_ , I guess. And you dress too nicely to be a lawyer.”

Renly grinned. “Thanks.” He guessed he knew what Loras had meant when he'd said that he didn't look like a lawyer. Most of the men who worked in Robert's company came in every day in what was essentially the same outfit with minute variations. Stannis, he knew, had fifteen identical suits hanging in his wardrobe, which he wore with an identical white shirt each and every day. Renly had been over to his whilst Selyse had been doing the ironing once, and all she had had in her laundry basket had been dozens of pristinely bright white shirts, which she'd then ironed one by one and folded meticulously. That, had summed up Stannis rather well, Renly had thought. 

They talked a little about Loras' family after that, which seemed to be a topic he could never exhaust, and Renly was surprised when he found that Loras Tyrell, the guy who'd been so disdainful when he'd first approached him, was actually surprisingly easy to make conversation with. He knew too that when Sansa debriefed him the next morning, as they always did after one of them had been on a date the night before, that she'd insist it was a really good sign that he was fond of his family. Sansa wouldn't be so impressed, though, when Renly told her that he'd made a little bit of a faux pas by assuming Loras Tyrell was American, when in fact, as Loras so dryly told him in response to that, he was born and bred in Kent. 

It all ended too soon, though, when after half a bottle of wine each, an amount that Renly felt was enough to be feeling relaxed, but not so much that he would be tipsy enough to say something altogether stupid, Loras Tyrell stood and said that they'd better get going.

Renly wasn't sure whether this meant that he wanted them to go home together or whether he actually needed to go home. He rather hoped that it was the first option. 

"Can I maybe walk you back to your hotel?" He asked, hoping it would be a little obvious but not too obvious that he fancied him a little crazily.

Loras seemed to pick this up rather well for he just laughed, raising an eyebrow knowingly. "I'd love you to, but I have to be somewhere." Despite the fact that half the bar kept stealing glances at them every now and then, he reached out for Renly's hands and pulled him up out of his seat.

"Where do you have to be?" Renly asked. Loras' hands were warm in his and standing up now, there was no table between them. He would only have to lean in a tiny bit to be able to kiss him. It was quite difficult in fact to focus on anything else except that. 

“I have to be in Milan in four hours.” Loras told him with more than a hint of regret. He didn't let go of Renly's hands though, and Renly took that as a very promising sign. Milan, though, didn't sound so promising. Renly had worried about the fact that his flat was a half an hour cab ride from this bar Loras had chosen, rather too far to be able to invite him back afterwards, but Milan took that predicament to rather new heights.

“Seriously?" He sighed. "Milan? But London Fashion Week only ended today.”

“And?” Loras said, his brow furrowing.

“When do you sleep? When do you rest?” Renly asked incredulously. 

Loras just shrugged. “I don’t," he admitted.

“And when are you scheduled to be back here?” Renly did his best not to sound too hopeful, but had Loras not still had his hands in his, he would have crossed his fingers and prayed it would be soon. He knew it was desperate, but he really did want to see this one again, and whilst that was partly because he was famous and people stared at him when he was out, it wasn't the only reason, Renly thought. 

“I’m not.” Loras said, and Renly felt that glimmer of hope he had fade slowly away. “I’ve got a flight booked from Rome back to the States for Thursday.”

“Oh.” The disappointment must have shown on his face for Loras smirked a little, and slowly, he leant forward to close the gap between them. The kiss was brief, far too brief, and Renly found himself wishing he'd instigated this way way earlier in the evening. 

“But I reckon I could probably find a flight back to London instead," Loras remarked casually as they parted, one of his hands lingering all too promisingly on the small of Renly's back. "If there was an incentive?”

Renly just grinned at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly went into work the next morning to find almost everyone on his floor crowded into his office. Even Jaime and Brienne had managed to squeeze themselves into the room, and for Brienne, the personal assistant Renly had had before Sansa, that was rather a difficult feat. 

"So?" Sansa hissed as soon as he was through the door. "How did it go?"

Before he could even open his mouth to reply, Jaime took a step forward, grinning all too wickedly at him. 

"Renly," he laughed. "Thought you'd want to take a look at this." Sweeping the array of Sansa's make up that cluttered the desk to one side, he spread out a magazine. "Look," he smirked. " _Loras Tyrell mends broken heart with mystery man in London_." He winked at Renly. "And apparently you got a little bit of action last night."

Renly raised an eyebrow and came to inspect the article. Indeed, there was a very grainy photo of him and Loras kissing below the headline, evidently taken from somebody's phone. 

He grinned, and ushered everyone from the room, raising his eyebrow when Jaime insisted on walking very very slowly to the door. He didn't mind gossiping a little bit, but he didn't think it was the best idea to chat to the entire department about his date last night. Sansa would do that for him at lunchtime. 

"Did you sleep with him?" Sansa demanded. "Did you? Did you?"

Jaime cringed in the doorway "Ugh, please don't talk about Renly's sex life when I'm still in the room." He made a disgusted face.

Renly just grinned at him and winked. "Well if you really want to know Jaime, we had hot sex all night. Six times. Everywhere. On the bed, on the floor, in the shower, on the kitchen table, on-"

Jaime shut the door loudly, which was for the best as Renly had run out of fake places he and Loras could have had sex.

" _Really?_ " Sansa asked excitedly, hopping up and down. "Did you really?"

"No," Renly laughed. "He had to fly to Milan last night."

"Oh." Her face fell visibly. "Well that's a shame. It would have been so romantic."

She evidently hadn't had much experience of sex on first dates, Renly thought, for _romantic_ wasn't the word he would ever use to describe it. That said, he didn't think he'd have sex at all if he shared a flat with Arya Stark, who seemed to make it her business to be as rude as she possibly could to every man Sansa brought home. 

"Did you know he was English?" Renly asked as he sat down at his desk. "I always thought he was American."

"Did you not think to check first?" Sansa asked incredulously.

"What do you mean check?"

Sansa sighed heavily and flipped up the lid of her laptop. "You have to do your stalking before any date. It's like the first commandment of dating."

Renly rolled his eyes. "But if I'd done that, we'd have had nothing to talk about. And then I would have had to pretend that I didn't know any of the stuff he told me."

"Well you're doing it now." She tapped Loras' name into google with her manicured nails. " _Loras Tyrell_ ," she read. "- _born April 14, 1992, is a British male model known for his campaigns and editorials with Calvin Klein, Versace, Alexander McQueen and Chanel. In 2006, Loras Tyrell was scouted at the age of fourteen . Since then, he has walked for Giorgio Armani, Dolce & Gabbana, Ralph Lauren_," She glanced up. "The list is pretty long."

"Skip it." Renly laughed.

" _Early life: He was born in the south of England to Alerie and Mace Tyrell. He has two older brothers and a younger sister._ That's good." Sansa laughed. "Men with sisters are so much more dateable. It means they _understand_ women."

Renly rolled his eyes. "Because I'm looking for a man who understands women Sansa?"

"Ah yes, I guess not." Sansa admitted. "Well he has brothers, so he probably understands men too right?"

Renly just rolled his eyes.

"It even has all his measurements," Sansa laughed. "Height: six foot one, weight: one hundred and fourty five pounds, chest: thirty four inches, waist: thirty two inches. Crazy isn't it? What you can find on Wikipedia?"  
  
"Crazy, but none of that means anything to me, apart from the height." Renly laughed. "I suppose it's good to know that he's still a good couple of inches shorter than me though. But what about his personal life? And how about you scan it and pick out the good bits rather than reading it all out?"

She did, looking up gravely when she was done. "You've got competition Renly, he's had a lot of girlfriends. Six of whom were Victoria's Secret models." She listed off their names and Renly had to cringe at how attractive they all were. 

"His last relationship reportedly ended only a fortnight ago," Sansa added.

That explained why that article had referred to him as heartbroken, Renly supposed, and Renly wondered whether he ought to take that piece of information as a red flag, as a warning. It was common wnough knowledge that guys who had just got of relationships were usually on the rebound. That said, Renly didn't know whether the idea of meaningless fling with a supermodel was something he ought to be particularly upset about. Perhaps he ought to be rejoicing that Loras Tyrell had just split up with someone and wouldn't be looking for anything serious- that he might be looking merely for a significant amount of hot, no-strings sex.

Oddly, though. Loras Tyrell hadn't seemed like he was after that sort of thing, Renly thought. If it was only sex he was after then Renly reckoned he wouldn't have agreed to a date when there was no chance of them hooking up afterwards. And besides, he didn't think that Loras Tyrell would have any problem finding someone to simply spend the night with. In the industry he was in, Renly imagined that Loras Tyrell was probably surrounded by thousands of guys who would jump at the chance to hop into bed with him with no questions asked. Instead, Loras Tyrell had bothered turning up on time, and had actually seemed interested in him- all signs perhaps that he wasn't in fact looking for nothing but a bit of fun.

His musings were interrupted, though, by the door swinging open again, announcing the return of Jaime. He just grinned at Renly again, and then prompty leant over Sansa to peer at what she was doing.

"Please tell me we're not still on Renly's sex life?" He asked, eyebrow perfectly arched as usual as he deposited a stack of important papers on Renly's desk.

"We're not," Sansa told him. "We're stalking his new boyfriend instead."

"He's not my new boyfriend." Renly insisted, running his hands through his hair a little despairingly, all too aware that this was but the first time out of thousands of times he would have to say this in the next coming days. Even so, he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face at Sansa's words. As quickly as he knew that this would get old, it was rather nice even to be able to deny the fact that he had a celebrity for a boyfriend.

Jaime just rolled his eyes at his denial and peered closer at the Wikipedia page. "What about any scandals?" He asked scathingly. "It's a toxic industry Renly. I warn you now. If they're not vain and self obsessed, then they're pathetically insecure, and half of them will be anorexic, or on drugs, or both." He gave a sly smile. "And you'll be thanking me when this guy who's _not_ your new boyfriend turns out to be a vain, psychotic, drugged up anorexic."

Renly laughed at his words. "Stop raining on my parade. I'd almost think you were jealous, Jaime."

Jaime's eyebrow just shot up once more. "Don't even joke about it, Renly. I may be dating a woman who looks like a man, but that does not mean I actually want to have sex with a real one."

"Well do you not have at least something nice to say about my good fortune?" Renly laughed. 

Jaime looked pensive at that for a few seconds before he just smirked once more. "Yes," he said. "I think it's great that you've probably managed to find the only guy on the face of the earth who is as equally into himself as you are." He looked back to Sansa as Renly rolled his eyes at him. "Now before we were so rudely interrupted by your boss here, I was asking you if there were any scandals on that pretty little wikipedia page of his?"

Sansa shrugged and read on. "Not really. Some designer said that he was a nightmare to work with if that counts? Apparently he's volatile, unpredictable and a bit of a diva." She grinned and made quotation marks in the air. " _Loras Tyrell was not available for comment on these allegations._ "

Renly sighed. "He didn't seem like a diva."

"I guess that's what makes him unpredictable then?" Jaime said smugly. "Don't make any judgements yet. You only spent two hours with the guy."

Renly just rolled his eyes. He was tired of being ribbed about his date and so he just glanced conspicuously at his phone. "It's almost eleven," he warned them. "Stannis will be doing his rounds soon." In actual fact, they still had ten minutes before Stannis would be stalking amongst them on his usual mid-morning inspection, but all the same, it had the desired effect. Sansa minimised Loras' wikipedia page as quickly as she could and rushed back to her own desk whilst even Jaime sidled out rather quickly. 

Finally, Renly reckoned he would have a tiny bit of peace, and picking up the newspaper Jaime had left, he set to reading the article whose main purpose seemed to be deducing who he was. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be so late for work! Will reply to all your amazing comments on chapter 2 as soon as I get back!

Loras made good on his word, and he flew back from Milan as he'd promised on the Thursday. Renly didn't care to imagine how much Loras had had to shift around in his schedule to be able to come back, but he certainly wasn't going to question it. Not seeing as he and Loras had been on three more dates since then. Admittedly, they were always very short ones that Loras managed to fit in between his numerous photoshoots and meetings with various designers, but they were dates all the same.

And today was his lucky day, Renly thought to himself as he read the text Loras had just sent to him.

"Guess what Sansa," he grinned.

"What?" She looked up from the magazine she was reading, not even bothering to pretend that she was doing something useful.

"Well some designer has cancelled on him or something, so Loras has got a whole evening free tonight. Do you believe it? A _whole_ evening? And he's letting me decide what we do."

"Seriously?" She asked, looking duly excited. "Well what are you going to do? God that's so much pressure?"

Renly frowned. "What do you mean pressure?"

"Well you know? There are so many possibilities Renly. You could take him to dinner and then a film, or to the theatre. You could even go bowling, or to the aquarium. Or ice skating!" She's gotten out of her chair in excitement and no doubt she was imagining the perfect boyfriend who would one day take her on all these dates.

Renly just stared at her. "Well I was thinking we'd just get something to eat and hopefully have a lot of sex."

"Well what's special about that?" Sansa protested. "You want this to last right?"

Renly had to think about that for a few moments before he answered. Orginally he'd thought of it as just a bit of fun, but now he wasn't so sure of that at all. Aside from the fact that Loras had a little bit of a temper on him- he had been prone to being very rude to the waiters on their last date- and the fact too that the boy smoked like a chimney, Renly had to conclude that Loras Tyrell was pretty much all he could have ever wanted in a guy. "Yes," he agreed, surprising himself a little. "I do want this to last."

"Then don't treat him like a one night stand." Sansa retorted.

Renly just raised an eyebrow, grinning at her. "I can safely say I've never got something to eat with my one night stands. And what on earth is wrong with just getting dinner and going back to mine? If he's anything like every other man I've ever dated, he wouldn't actually enjoy wandering around some silly aquarium or falling over on ice skates. Not when he could be getting laid."

Sansa just rolled her eyes. " _Men_." she muttered disdainfully under her breath. "Well, you have to at least make it a little special. You could cook for him and curl up on the sofa to eat it together? And then you could make the sex all romantic and everything. With candles and low level music. And you have to undress him really slowly."

Renly just laughed. "You know what Sansa? I'm rather glad I'm gay. You women sound complicated."

 

 

* * *

 

 

He did take some of her advice in the end, though, and Loras seemed quite flattered to be invited round. Cooking for him, however, seemed a bit of a stretch, and pointless to boot as he'd just have to spend all his time in the kitchen, and so Renly just made sure that he'd given some thought to which take-aways were usually good, and which were always miserably disappointing. It was an easy enough job seeing as, whilst Renly was no stranger to cooking, he liked to think himself a little bit of an expert on take-aways.

He was just giving his flat a quick tidy when there was a knock at the door, and Renly almost tripped over not one but two chairs as he hurried to open it.

"Loras," he smiled as he opened the door. Indeed, Loras was standing outside, looking as head-to-toe perfect as he usually did in jeans and a leather jacket. Renly wouldn't have pinned him down for the leather jacket type but he pulled it off flawlessly as Renly imagined he would probably pull off anything. He supposed, though, that he ought not be surpised. Loras Tyrell was more or less a walking coat hanger, and Renly reckoned you could put anything on him and he would still put everyone around around him to shame. That was why he was such a good runway model. 

Looking at him there though, with his perfect clothes and his even more perfect hair, Renly was suddenly struck the surreality of the situation, and he couldn't help but think Loras Tyrell looked a little out of place on his doorstep. Renly was so used to seeing pictures of him on catwalks and on red carpets that it seemed somehow banal that he might be here, standing outside his door as any normal person might. He almost expected that if he were to blink, Loras might actually be gone by the time he opened his eyes.

Loras raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to let me in?" He asked. "Or are we just going to stand here? Because that's fine too."

Renly just grinned a little sheepishly. "Of course I'm going to let you in." He placed his hand on the small of Loras' back to guide him in. He supposed he needed to move on from getting star-struck sometime soon.

Loras seemed quite at home in his flat and he just sat himself down on the sofa as happily as anything. "Thanks for inviting me," he said. "I spend so much time having cameras shoved in my face that it's really nice to go somewhere a little more private."

Renly smiled and sat down next to him. He had no idea whether he was reading too much into this, but he hoped that by _private_ , Loras was implying what Renly hoped he was implying. He wasn't overly sure but all the same, he felt confident enough to put an arm around him. "So, you hungry?" he asked, trying not to grin like an idiot when Loras shifted a little closer, one of his curls tickling Renly's cheek. 

"Not particularly, but we can order something if you want." He leant into Renly's side even further. "I'll let you choose. I'm not fussy."

Renly grinned. "We're going to get on so well." He picked up the Chinese menu and started writing numbers down. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was being allowed to choose what to eat. It was for that reason that he hated going out with Sansa. They had to spend hours and hours examining low fat menus and on top of that, she had a rule that she couldn't eat either spaghetti or noodles out in public- just in case she dropped her food down herself.

The food arrived quickly and although Loras had previously given the impression that he was perfect at everything, Renly quickly realised that this wasn't quite the case. He had absolutely no skills with chopsticks. And whilst Sansa, however, would have scorned if she knew what they were doing, Renly found that he thought it was almost nicer to do something rather low-key with Loras. For whatever reason, it seemed to mean more that Loras was happy sitting beside him attempting to eat noodles out of a box than it had done when they'd been to a glitzy bar, or to some posh coffee house. He still couldn't quite believe it either, and he knew that if he'd told himself a month ago that in four weeks Loras Tyrell would be curled up on his sofa with him watching reruns on TV, he wouldn't have believed it. 

There were definitely a lot of other benefits too to having invited Loras to his place, and one of the best ones, Renly thought, was that he could lean over and kiss him whenever he liked, without having to worry about having people stare at them. And he could kiss him properly here, lingering kisses where he could put his hands in Loras' hair and tug gently on his shirt until Loras was practically on his lap.

"You're beautiful," Renly breathed as he did just that.

Loras smiled against his mouth, clearly amused. “I know," he smirked. "I get paid to be beautiful. Tell me something else?”

“Um,” Renly laughed. “You're very very bad with chopsticks?"

Loras shrugged. "That'll do." He leant in once more and pushed himself a little closer, so close that Renly could tell he was a little hard. HIs lips parted once more then, and Renly ran his hand up the back of Loras' neck and into his hair. Both his skin and his curls were silky soft and Renly imagined that he'd be quite happy to just stroke him all evening, as one might a household pet. As it was, though, he suspected he was about to get a lot luckier than that. Loras' kisses were soft, but they were inarguably full of promise. 

"Am I allowed to take you upstairs?" Renly murmured as soon as they'd briefly parted, wrapping an arm around his waist. Loras' shirt had slid slightly up and there was a lovely gap of creamy white skin that Renly couldn't resist touching. 

"Do you want to?"

Renly just nodded. For the first time in his life, though, he felt a little nervous. Even with the Victoria's Secret ex girlfriends aside, he had no doubt that Loras had men lining up to sleep with him, and he didn't like to think what his competition was like. He had always thought himself pretty decent in bed, but just the thought of all Loras' fellow male models with their perfect bodies and no doubt perfect skill sets between the sheets made Renly wonder whether he should have got a little bit of last minute practice before even suggesting he and Loras do anything more than share a few kisses.

It was too late now, though, and Renly supposed he should simply be very very grateful as Loras let Renly lead him up the stairs.

"Top or bottom?" Renly breathed as he shut the door behind them. This was a conversation they really should have had earlier, Renly thought, but one that it was better to have now rather than just fighting it out later for their favourite role. He'd made that mistake before and it wasn't as fun as it sounded.

"Well what are you usually?" Loras asked. He stretched out across Renly's bed and smiled up at him. His face was a little flushed and Renly's pulse quickened to see that Loras' eyes too were already dark with desire. 

"I usually top," Renly admitted. "But I'm flexible."

"No it's all right, I can bottom for you."`He reached out for Renly's hands and pulled him down on top of him. His lips were on Renly's in seconds, and this time round, he pushed up against Renly so deliciously that Renly could have taken him then and there.

Renly kept Sansa's advice in mind, though, and tried to take things slowly. That was rather hard when he considered who his partner was, but he tried to pace himself all the same, unbuttoning Loras' shirt as gently as he could and kissing a path along Loras' collarbone so softly that it made him shiver.

Loras always looked rather slim in his clothes but he seemed even slimmer by the time that he was lying naked underneath Renly's hands. Somehow, he looked even vulnerable when out of the clothes that he made his living in. As Renly would have expected, he didn't have an inch of fat on him but he was surprisingly toned, lithe and lightly muscled. He truly was stunning and Renly was quite proud of the fact that he was about to be allowed to touch the long-legged beauty underneath him as he pleased.

And Loras truly did seem happy for Renly to do as he pleased with him, something which Renly couldn't help but be surprised by. He had no doubt that Loras Tyrell had had a lot more sex than he had, despite their gap in years, and from what Renly had read of his interviews in magazines, Renly would have expected him to be rather quite assertive in bed- something which he wasn't at all. He followed Renly's lead as if he were born to following, and he was more than a little pliant, like putty in Renly's hands. And as Renly slipped a gentle finger inside him, he made the most appreciative little noises in the back of his throat. It was then perhaps that the facade truly melted away and Renly managed to forget that the boy underneath him was at all famous. Loras' eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed and there was nothing artful about his expressions now, nothing that a photographer might try and capture to put on the cover on a magazine. For the moment, Loras Tyrell was no supermodel. They were just two people, pressed closely together as each sought to bring the other to his peak.

Loras cried out when Renly pushed into him, and that really was a sound that didn't suit him. He wrapped his legs very tightly around Renly's waist too and Renly had to pause, putting a hand in Loras' now very tangled curls and holding him tight until he relaxed underneath him. It suprised him that he had to, but Renly figured it was flattering- it implied that the man Loras Tyrell had last been with was probably lacking in comparison to him. 

He took his hands away from around his waist, though, as soon as Loras was relaxed, propping himself up on his elbows. He'd barely got a rhythm going, though, before Loras spoke.

"Can you put your arms back where they were?" He whispered breathlessly. "I liked that."

Renly obliged, wrapping his arms duly back around Loras' chest. He couldn't get as deep like this, and he'd never been with a man who'd asked to be held, but he imagined that Sansa would be proud of him. It was surprisingly intimate and Loras put his own arms around Renly as they rocked slowly together, half kissing and half merely panting into each other's mouths. 

Loras cried out again when Renly came and he didn't seem to mind Renly remaining collapsed on top of him. In fact, even when Renly rolled off him, Loras clung around his middle, evidently not wishing them to part quite yet. Sansa would later tell Renly that it was oxytoxin that made him behave like this, that hormone released after sex that she was always reading about in her magazines, but even so Renly was a little surprised. He hadn't taken Loras Tyrell to be the cuddly sort. Indeed, he surely wasn't built for it, and as Renly settled him against his chest, he couldn't help but think it a little uncomfortable; Loras' elbows were rather sharp and he seemed to be all angles against him.

All the same, Renly didn't push him away. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly slept like a log almost all night, but found himself rudely awakened by the dawn at about four in the morning. Cursing the fact that he hadn't remembered to close the curtains, he rolled over and tried to pull Loras to him. He was a little confused when his hands found nothing but cool sheets on the other side of the bed.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. Earlier, he would have called it irrational, but now he couldn't help but fear that Loras had walked out on him sometime during the night. He felt a little relieved, though, when he saw that Loras' clothing was still scattered across the floor, and he felt even more relieved when he spotted that the door out to his balcony was slightly ajar.

Dragging himself out of bed, he pulled on a clean pair of boxers and headed out onto his balcony. He did have a dressing gown, but he figured he should probably save that for if and when he and Loras became a little more comfortable looking like idiots around each other. He didn't think his dressing gown was really his most attractive look. 

Loras indeed was sat out on his balcony, clad too in nothing but his boxers. He had his legs tucked up underneath him, and out of the expensive clothes and with his hair all tangled and even a little frizzy in the damp morning air, he looked like any twenty one year old for once. Unsurprisingly, he had a cigarette in his hand and Renly was hardly astonished either to see that he was one of those people who eschewed what they considered mainstream and rolled their own cigarettes as if doing that made them edgy.

"What's wrong?" Renly asked, and he must have startled Loras, for he almost jumped very uncharacteristically inelegantly out of his chair.

"Nothing," Loras told him, extinguishing his cigarette and tossing it off the balcony. He sounded a little defensive and Renly wondered whether Loras thought he was pissed off with him for getting out of bed.

Renly took a seat next to him. "No really. What's the matter? Did I make you sore?" He thought it very unlikely, considering how gentle he'd been, but he still supposed it the most logical option. 

Loras shrugged. "Not much. I just couldn't sleep. So I came out here."

"Why can't you sleep?" Renly asked, wondering if it was anything to do with him. To his shame, Renly knew that he was no stranger to snoring once in a while. He had no doubt that it annoyed the hell out of anyone nearby. Sansa had come to stay once when Arya had had Gendry over for the weekend, and although she'd slept on his sofa in the other room, she'd apparently had to come into his room at three in the morning and roll him over just to shut him up.

"Am I irritating to share a bed with?" He asked, dreading the answer a little. That would be a great start to a relationship.

"No," Loras said very shortly. "It's nothing to do with you. Did I say it was?"

"Well no." Renly laughed a little nervously, a little taken aback at Loras' tone. He'd heard Loras be rude before, but he'd never imagined that he would fall prey to it himself. It caused more than a little bit of tension, and they sat in silence for a good couple of minutes, both of them watching the sun slowly light up the London street below them.

Eventually, Loras broke the silence. "I often can't sleep," he confided, his voice a little softer now. "It really is nothing to do with you. It's the constant jet lag and the fact that I don't have any sort of normal routine. I think this is the first time in years really that I've had more than a couple of hours free between stuff."

"Well that sucks." Renly said. That was all Renly could really think to say to that. He couldn't imagine having to go through life catching an hour of sleep here and there. He needed his eight hours uninterrupted sleep- otherwise everyone around him would have hell to pay in the morning. As a teenager, Stannis had always been irritated with him, annoyed by the fact that Renly's lie-ins had consistently lasted until four in the afternoon each and every weekend.

Loras shrugged. "It's life. I deal with it."

"But you shouldn't have to deal with it," Renly laughed. "You're a supermodel. Surely you can tell those designers to fuck off once in a while and cut you some slack?"

Loras frowned. "It doesn't work like that."

"Well I don't see why not?" Renly laughed.

It was the wrong thing to say apparently.

"Well what would you know about it?" Loras said scathingly. He got to his feet and kicked the balcony door open. "What am I even doing here anyway, in some random guy's apartment who just invited me round so he could fuck me and then brag to all his friends about it the next day?" 

"That's not true," Renly protested. "It's really not." He had a guilty feeling, though, at the back of his mind. He knew all too well that Sansa would want to hear all about it, and that he would enjoy her wanting to hear all about it more than a little bit.

Loras didn't reply. He seemed to busy putting his clothes back on. "Just call me a cab will you?"

That sounded pretty non-negotiable and so thoroughly humiliated, Renly just picked up his phone and dialled for a cab. 

"Can I see you again?" he asked as Loras slung his jacket back on.

"Maybe," was the short reply. 

Renly just sighed, following miserably as Loras made his way down the stairs. He had no idea how he was going to explain to Sansa how and why this had suddenly gone downhill.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit goes to Marianne for Arianne :)

Renly heard nothing from Loras Tyrell for a fortnight, until one blustery autumn evening, and without warning, the man himself turned up on his doorstep. He looked even more out of place there than he had done the last time, and Renly peered curiously at him as he wondered both why he was here in the first place and why he was dressed as if he were going to the Oscars. Both he and Sansa had agreed unanimously that there was little chance that he'd see Loras Tyrell ever again, but it seemed they'd both been proved wrong.

"Hi," Loras said casually, as if he hadn't been more than a little bit rude the last time they'd seen each other. "Can I come in?" He offered no explanation as to why he was in a suit, and yet Renly could see a cab parked a few feet away, its driver reading a newspaper as if he were waiting for someone. He supposed that this meant Loras was on his way somewhere and that this might be a fleeting visit. That said, Renly imagined too that Loras Tyrell was a millionaire enough times over that it wouldn't matter if he had to pay a taxi driver to wait for him for hours on end, or even weeks on end if he so wished it.

"Sure," Renly said, stepping back to let him come in. It was odd, he thought. Neither of them made any mention of the way they'd parted the last time, and it didn't look like either of them was going to; it was almost as if it had never happened, as if he and Loras had parted on amiable terms that night. Indeed, when Loras smiled up at him and even gave him a casual one-armed hug as he stepped over the threshold, Renly began to wonder whether Loras' swift departure from his bedroom had merely taken place in one of his nightmares.

"So," he asked, looking Loras up and down rather appreciatively. "You off somewhere fancy this evening?" Loras was certainly versatile, Renly had to conclude. He looked just as at ease in very expensive posh tailoring as he did in anything else.

Loras laughed and ran a hand through his blond curls. "That's why I'm here actually. I've been invited to this after party thing, for one of Valentino's shows, and I was wondering, well, whether you fancied coming with me?"

That explained both the cab and the suit, and Renly just grinned at him. He didn't think he'd ever been more excited to be asked to anything before. The fact that it was for Valentino didn't surprise Renly in the slightest. He was all too aware that it was with Valentino that Loras had made a seriously big name for himself. He didn't need Sansa's stalking abilities to know that. Renly still remembered reading about how the boy who'd already been pinned to be the next big thing had suddenly found himself catapulted into the global spotlight when he'd tossed roses to the women in the crowd at a Valentino show in Paris. It had been talked about in magazines for months afterwards, and overnight, half of the female population had fallen instantaneously in love with him. 

"Sure," Renly said, trying to hide his excitement despite the fact that inside, he was doing his best not to actually jump for joy. "When does it start?"

"Er," Loras glanced at his phone. "Well, we'd need to leave in about twenty minutes?"

"In twenty minutes?" Renly just stared at him. "But I need to get dressed."

Loras raised an eyebrow. "Well it's black tie. It's not that difficult. And if you need to put make up on then I might think twice about bringing you."

"But _still_ ," Renly ran a hand through his hair in more than a little bit of frustration. "Twenty minutes?" Ideally, he wanted to shower and dry his hair before he even started getting dressed. And that wasn't even taking into consideration the amount of time that he'd need to spent covertly texting Sansa to tell her where he was off to.

Loras glanced at his phone. "Eighteen and a half minutes now actually." He grinned when Renly sighed. "Look," he said bluntly. "Do you want to come or not?" The look on his face told Renly that he was quite aware of how much he wanted to come.

"Yes," Renly told him, feeling a little defeated. 

"Well then go get yourself dressed," Loras said with a small smirk. "And I shall see you down here in precisely sixteen minutes and forty five seconds."

Renly just sighed and let Loras give him a less than gentle push up the stairs.

 

 

* * *

 

"You know Loras," Renly said with a laugh. "The next time you ask me if I fancy going to a party with you, tell me it's in Paris won't you?" He'd been more than a little surprised when the taxi had taken them to London Gatwick airport.  
  
Loras just shrugged. "I told you you needed your passport. What did you think you were going to need it for? You didn't think they were going to ID you on the door before they gave you a glass of champagne did you? They didn't even do that to me at shows in the states, and I was a minor over there until a few months ago."

"But I'm not you," Renly protested. The advantages of being Loras Tyrell had certainly been clear tonight; they'd been whisked through security even after boarding for their flight had officially closed and Renly hadn't even known that such extravagant first class compartments existed on short haul flights such as London to Paris. They'd been offered champagne, and chocolates, and they'd practically a whole cabin to themselves, let alone merely spacious legroom. Flying had never been so fun, and in actual fact, when you were treated like they just had been, it hadn't taken them any longer to get to Paris than it would have done for them to get to parts of London.

"But you're my date for the evening." Loras told him with a smug smile. "You could probably be on the FBI's most wanted list and they'd still let you go anywhere with me." He slung his arm casually around Renly's waist as they walked away from passport control and grinned up at him.  
  
"Well aren't you modest," Renly laughed. "But to go back to the point, I just didn't think about why I'd need my passport. I guess I assumed for ID, but really I'd be a little offended nowadays if it turned out that I did need it to get my hands on a glass of wine." Indeed, Renly liked to think of those days as being firmly behind him now, and he took pride in the fact that it had been years since he'd been asked to show his age to get into a bar.  
  
"How old even are you?" Loras asked, flagging down a taxi just outside the airport with an elegant wave of his hand.

"I'll be twenty six in January," Renly told him. "Practically ancient compared to you."

"Yeah," Loras agreed.

Renly rolled his eyes. "You're not supposed to agree. You're supposed to disagree and tell me how youthful I look."  
  
"Well who's modest now?" Loras grinned, looking more than a little amused. "I'll bear that in mind, though."  
  
"Bear what in mind?" Renly asked, frowning.  
  
"That I'm supposed to lie when asked sensitive questions?" He smiled sweetly up at Renly and reached for his hand as the car ground to a halt beside them

Renly just laughed and nudged him quite hard in the side as they climbed in. He knew that Loras was just teasing but he was going to be nobody's doormat, not even Loras Tyrell's.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly hadn't known what he was expecting, but he certainly felt a little overwhelmed as they pulled up outside the Jardin des Tuileries, where this event was apparently to be held. Feeling overwhelmed was a very unsusual sensation for him and he tried to keep his cool and look relaxed. He couldn't help but feel a bit taken aback though. Loras had spoken quite casually about it all, despite the fancy dress code, and whilst Renly couldn't quite see a red carpet leading up to the enormous tent that would host Valentino's event, there were still people taking photographs literally everywhere.

No sooner had he and Loras got out of their Parisian cab in fact, were there cameras flashing in their faces, huge men in big black suits straining to keep them from getting any closer. Renly did his best to follow Loras' lead, getting out of the car elegantly, glad that it wasn't possible for him to accidentally flash his underwear as he knew all too many women accidentally did. He then did his best not to blink as thousands of shutters clicked once more around him. Loras didn't even flinch at the flashes, but as for himself, Renly had to hope that he wasn't squinting in all of them. 

"I should have warned you," Loras hissed in his ear. "In ten minutes, they'll have dug out your name and virtually everything about you, and your photo will be in every tabloid that's worth its salt. I hope that's all right?"  
  
"Do I have a choice now?" Renly laughed under his breath. In truth, he didn't care in the slightest. Quite the opposite in fact; he'd always thought he had a face that simply deserved to be in magazines. Sansa had been jealous that one time where they'd been a blurry picture of him and Loras in that magazine Jaime had dug out, but Renly imagined that she might actually just die of envy if there was a proper article about him, with his face splashed across several pages. He wondered if the media would make a big deal of his lack of parents, and he sighed to himself as he imagined what the headline might be. _Loras Tyrell finds love with orphan with a tragic past,_ was his personal guess, and he could just picture it now- written in big black letters above a stunning picture of he and Loras walking side by side.

"No, you have no choice at all." Loras replied. With that, he took Renly's arm, and Renly watched as that simple gesture brought the paparazzi swivelling around to face them in droves. Renly could only imagine what they'd had done had Loras kissed him. He and Loras would probably have been crushed in the stampede that would have ensued, Renly reckoned.

Inside was more glamorous than Renly could have imagined. There were less photographers in here but there was champagne everywhere, and it was as if there was some rule in place that only beautiful people were allowed in. There was not a hair out of place and every single girl looked as if she'd just stepped off of a runway, as most likely, many of them just had a few hours ago. There were less men, but the ones that were there were equally as attractive and some of them Renly recognised, as either famous actors or models like their elegant female counterparts. 

For once, though, what Sansa called her 'research' had paid off and Renly found he was able to identify no less than five of Loras' Tyrell's apparent ex-girlfriends. Loras seemed to show no interest in going over to any of them though, and so Renly presumed that those relationships had ended badly, or else Loras was trying to avoid some silly headline that had him rekindling the romance with one of his exes. Knowing Loras' temper, and the media's tendency to over-exaggerate everything, neither option would have surprised Renly. All the same, though, Renly couldn't help watching them a little warily. They were all far too attractive for his liking and he didn't like to think of Loras sleeping with any of them.

Eventually, though, one of them approached Loras, as if she was tired of being slighted. She stood out from the rest of the girls here, Renly thought. Whilst she was no less extraordinarily pretty, she was tiny, barely coming up to most of the other girls' shoulders. 

"She's not a runway model is she?" Renly asked. 

Loras just laughed. "She'd be considered a fat dumpy one if she was. She's an editorial model."  
  
"That means she just has photos taken of her right?"

"Yes," Loras agreed. "in very little clothes usually."  
  
"Oh," Renly could certainly see why. She was the exact opposite of all the skinny girls who she was surrounded with. She had curves in all the right places and as she walked, she swayed her shapely hips mesmerisingly from side to side, as if she might be trying to charm a snake. It would have probably charmed most men, but alas Renly was not most men, and whist he could admire the beauty in her big dark eyes and long dark curls, he found no allure in her. He supposed, though, that this must be one of the Victoria's Secret models that Sansa had warned him about. She was certainly dressed like one, in a jewelled corseted dress, the neckline of which plunged to her stomach and bared most of her cleavage.

"Hi," she purred as she approached. "Who's your date Loras?" She reached out to touch Renly's arm sensuously. She had the most intriguing of accents and Renly couldn't work out whether she was Brazilian or Portuguese.  

Loras rolled his eyes. "Nice to see you too. This is Renly, and hands off please." 

"Must I?" She leant in seductively and peered up at Renly through her lashes. 

Loras' arm found its way around Renly's waist quite speedily then, and Renly just grinned as he realised he was being fought over. It was quite nice to feel desired and he was almost tempted to play along with the girl just to wind Loras up a little bit and see him get more and more territorial. Having experienced Loras' temper first hand now though, he managed to resist and he let Loras tighten his arm defensively around his waist without any fuss. 

"Well you're no fun tonight," Arianne pouted, turning back to Loras. She reached for his hand. "I know what'll cheer you up." 

Loras pulled his hand away rather sharply. "Stop being silly Arianne." He shooed her away rather disdainfully. "Now go and seduce somebody else."  
  
She frowned, her perfect red lips pressing together. "Oh I get it," she laughed. "New boyfriend and all." She did as he said though, and with one very lingering glance back at Renly, turned back towards a group of girls who were loudly talking about how one of them had just thrown up in the bathroom. That explained perhaps why there was such a long queue to get in there. 

"Well she must have been a handful," Renly laughed, a little disappointed when Loras' loosened his hold on him slightly as Arianne was swallowed back into the glitzy throng of people.

Loras just nodded. "You have no idea," he said grimly.

 

* * *

 

It was six in the morning by the time the party even began to lag and Renly was just astonished at the way people just seemed to keep on going, Loras included. Renly personally was no stranger to late nights but even his feet were hurting, and whilst a very very few girls had changed into flats or simply kicked their shoes off, most of them walked strong still in their heels. It had been a good night, though, and Loras had stuck to his side loyally like glue all night. The only times he'd even momentarily abandoned him had been for his seemingly obligatory cigarette breaks, but he'd always made sure that Renly had had someone to talk to before he left. He needn't have worried either, Renly thought. He was quite capable of keeping conversation going all by himself, no matter how famous the person he was talking to was. He was good at many things, and small talk was certainly one of them.

Despite Loras not seeming particularly tired, he seemed to gauge that Renly was though, and he responded to Renly tugging on his arm rather quickly. 

"Want to go home?" Loras asked, reaching up to push Renly's hair out of his eyes in a surprisingly affectionate gesture.

"To London?" Renly asked wearily. The flight had been fun but even the best of first class couldn't possibly seem fun now, not when he was fighting to keep his eyes open and his feet were throbbing from standing for so long. The thought of getting in an . He just wanted a bed, otherwise he thought he would be liable to just fall asleep right there on the pavement. It was a warm enough evening for October and Renly reckoned he'd be quite happy there on the curb. 

"No," Loras shook his head and laughed as if Renly had just said something particularly funny. "I've got a hotel booked. About five minutes walk from here."

"Good," Renly sighed and he let Loras lead him outside gladly, thankful that the paparazzi seemed to have bigger fish to fry right now and that nobody followed them outside. After the noise of the party, the silence outside was bliss and Renly didn't think he'd ever take a little bit of peace and quiet for granted ever again. He was almost a little disappointed when Loras seemed to want to chatter  The fresh air too was very welcome and Renly relished the cool breeze that drifted lazily through the almost empty streets. It was a shame, he thought. Had he not been dead on his feet, this would have been more than a little romantic, strolling through the heart of Paris with a gorgeous man on his arm. He tried his best to revive himself and it certainly helped that before long, Loras had reached for his hand, not letting go until they reached the hotel. 

It was of course five stars, and as fancy as Renly had expected it to be. This, though, he was no stranger at all to. Whenever Robert sent him anywhere on work purposes, he got to stay in whatever hotel he liked, and he and Sansa would often spend whole mornings choosing one out and thinking up a decent reason as to why Renly absolutely _needed_ his personal assistant at his side. 

Renly was more than relieved when they reached Loras' room, but he was also more than a little taken aback when Loras practically launched himself at him the moment the door had shut behind them, as if he simply couldn't wait another moment without kissing him. Renly did his best to kiss him back, he truly did but he simply didn't have the energy to be all too interested, not when he'd been awake for a whole twenty four hours. Indeed, when Renly caught a glance of the clock on the wall behind Loras' head, he groaned mentally to see that the gold plated hands read quarter to seven. And whilst his mind was screaming at him to be grateful and to seize what Loras was offering him, his body just wasn't on the same page to respond. It was sleep he craved more than anything: sleep and a good long glass of cold water.

Loras seemed to pick up on this fairly quickly and he pulled away, looking confused. "Are you not going to sleep with me again?" He asked, his brow furrowing. "Do you not want to? Was it not any good last time? You didn't enjoy it did you?"

"Slow down," Renly laughed softly once he was allowed a word in edgeways, trying not to let his eyes close. "No, I did enjoy it. I really did."  
  
"Then it's because I was rude isn't it?" Loras pressed, running a hand through his hair as if he were frustrated. "Because I was horrible to you in the morning?"

"It's because I'm tired." Renly stressed. "Because I got up at seven to go to work yesterday, and I haven't slept since then."

"Oh," Loras said. "Okay then, do you want to go to bed?" He said it as if it were strange that Renly might want to do that, and Renly supposed it was a little. Loras Tyrell was asking him to fuck him and he was turning him down, if albeit temporarily. It was never a sequence of events that Renly would have predicted.   
  
Renly nodded, though. "Is that all right?" he asked softly, hoping that this wouldn't set Loras' temper off again.   
  
"Yes, of course it is." Loras nodded hurriedly as if he was worried about offending him. "You don't have to sleep with me. But you would want to Renly, wouldn't you? If you weren't tired?"  
  
"Of course I'd want to," Renly laughed, even as he did his best to stifle a yawn. 

Loras smiled at him. "Cool, then I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to brush your teeth or something before?"

It was only then that it hit Renly that he was sharing a hotel room with Loras Tyrell and he had to smile to himself as he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, choosing the blue complimentary toothbrush and taking it out of its plastic wrapper. There was a red one too, and Renly wondered whether it was standard procedure in these sorts of hotels to put two of everything out, or whether Loras had specifically asked for there to be two of everything, anticipating that he'd definitely be bringing someone back with him. He wondered now whether Loras regretted having chosen him to come with him, now that he obviously wanted a bit of fun whereas Renly just wanted to collapse in bed. 

Indeed, Renly did just that as soon as he was done, stripping down to his boxers and stretching out across the bed. Loras disappeared into the shower then, and Renly pulled the covers wearily up over him, hugging one of the amazingly plush pillows to his chest. The sound of the running water from Loras' shower was somehow soothing and Renly closed his eyes blissfully even though he thought he should at least try to stay awake until Loras joined him in bed.

Loras wasn't too long in the shower and he had a towel round his waist when he came out, the water having darkened his hair to the colour of wet sand. His curls were looser now but Renly was surprised to see that they held most of their shape even when wet. 

"I wanted to apologise," Loras told him softly when he got into bed, clad too in his boxers. "I was really really rude to you that last time we saw each other."  
  
Renly just laughed. "It doesn't matter." That was all he could say really. He'd never been much of a confrontational person, and he had no desire to start now, not when it had the possibility of driving something wonderful away.  
  
"But it does matter." Loras insisted. "I guess I was just tired, Renly, and I took it out on you. You know what it's like. I'll work in six countries a week and I get irritable, short-tempered." He sighed heavily and rested his head on the plush pillow next to Renly's. "And I can get really irrational sometimes, paranoid even. You want to hear about the last guy I was with?"  
  
Not particularly, Renly thought. "All right," he said though, wondering where this was going. 

"Well he was really nice, about my age, called Oliver. He was one of my assistants and we hit it off right away. He was properly lovely to me, took me out on all of these wonderful dates and told me all of these wonderful things, but it turned out he was working for someone," He laughed bitterly, pushing his wet hair off his face. "No doubt you'll have read his gossip columns in practically every magazine there is. Well anyway, it turned he'd been, well,  _paid_ to get me into bed so he could take pictures of me, you know, intimate ones."

"God," Renly breathed. "You didn't think I wanted to take pictures did you?"  
  
"Of course not, but I couldn't help it flitting through my mind."  
  
"So what did you do about that guy? Did he get his pictures?" Renly imagined not. He reckoned Sansa would have found any leaked naked pictures very very quicky. Indeed, they'd probably have been saved as her wallpaper on her laptop.   
  
Loras laughed and he smirked viciously. "No, he didn't get particularly near sleeping with me." He looked gleefully lost in memories, which was odd considering what he was talking about. "I might have no GCSEs but I'm not quite that stupid."  
  
"So what did you do?" Renly pressed. "When you found out?"  
  
"I punched him in the face," Loras told him simply as if it were obvious that he'd done that. "It was glorious. His nose bled for hours." He relished that visibly for a good few seconds before rolling over and shifting a little closer to Renly in bed. "But I had no reason to think you were like him, and I promise you, it won't happen again. Assuming you want to see me again that is?"

He sounded pretty confident that Renly would and Renly laughed, wondering how Loras would react if he told him no, whether he'd be the next one that Loras Tyrell punched in the face. "I think the real question is if you want to see me again?"

"No, I do" Loras told him. "You might not believe it, but people stare at me all the time, but very rarely does anyone actually ask me out. Apparently, I'm _unapproachable_."

"Hmm," Renly said. He could see why. 

Loras just rolled his eyes and flipped off the light. He'd left the lamp on at the side of the bed, though, and his curls glowed almost platinum in the low level light. He shifted even closer then, until he was properly on Renly's side of the bed and he could nestle comfortably into his chest as he'd done the last time that they'd shared a bed. Whilst it was no doubt comfortable for him though, Renly had to disagree. It had been a little on the uncomfortable side last time, and the wet hair pressed against his neck certainly didn't help this time around, no matter how soft and silky it would be when it was dry. 

"Are you always so cuddly with people you date?" Renly laughed, rifling a hand through his wet curls. That was pleasant enough to do, and he wondered if he separated them, if the curls would dry a little faster and stop dripping down his neck.

Loras shrugged. "I don't know. I've never had cause to really think about it." He wrapped an arm tightly around Renly's waist. "But what do you mean by people you date?"  
  
Renly smiled. "What do you want it to mean?"  
  
Loras rolled his eyes. "Why can't you ever just answer a question properly?"  
  
"Fine," Renly laughed. "I guess it means that we're seeing each other, going on dates, sleeping together when it's not seven in the morning."  
  
"Again, which means?" Loras raised an eyebrow and looked a little frustrated. "Are we you know, exclusive?" He paused, and shifted awkwardly in Renly's arms. "Am I your boyfriend?"  
  
"If you want to be." Renly told him softly. He had to stifle a laugh at that question. Loras Tyrell was all sophistication and glamour at a first glance, but occasionally even he didn't seem to be able to stop hints of how young he actually was slipping through. Now seemed to be one of those moments.

"Yeah?" Loras glanced up at him, his eyes rather sincere. "Well I think I'd like that." 

Renly smiled lazily at him. "I think I'd like that too," he told him, and even though a cold drop of water was currently rolling down his chest off of the tip of one of Loras' curls, he really did mean that.


	5. Chapter 5

Renly woke up alone, and whilst his first thought was that Loras had once more thought better of sleeping with him and had walked out on him during the night, he rolled over to find a note on his pillow, written presumably by Loras, or at least he sincerely hoped so. Indeed, once Renly had rubbed his eyes and woken up enough to give the piece of paper more than a fleeting glance, he recognised it to be the same handwriting that had been on the first note Loras had given him. 

He sat up in bed to read it, pulling the covers up around his bare shoulders.

_Had to go meet with a designer this morning, apparantly it can’t wait, but I’ll be back sometime in the afternoon. Your registered as my guest downstairs, so just ask for a key if you want to go out._

It was short and concise, rather like Loras himself tended to be, and Renly had to force himself not to root around for a red pen and correct his spelling as he always did whenever Jaime put something on his desk at work. He did smile though at the fact that Loras had thought to register him as his guest, even though he thought it was quite unnecessary. Looking at the clock now, whose hands read that it was half past three in the afternoon, Renly imagined that by the time he'd showered and dressed, Loras would probably be back.

Loras was indeed back by the time he was out of the shower, and he seemed to be was making the most of the lingering autumn sunshine by sitting out on the balcony. With his hair bathed in the afternoon sunlight, he made quite the pretty picture, and Renly grinned to see that there was a plate of pastries and a bottle of wine on the iron wrought table. He was a little surprised, as he'd never had had Loras Tyrell down to be at all romantic, but it was nice and as soon as Renly was dressed and he'd made sure he looked vaguely presentable in the mirror, he went out to join him. 

Renly didn’t like to think of how little sleep Loras must have got up, but he seemed perky enough, smiling at him over the table. "Sleep well?" he asked. 

Renly nodded, yawning loudly as he sat down. "You?"  
  
Loras shrugged. "Not so bad." He pushed the plate of pastries towards him. "I brought you breakfast, or lunch maybe."  
  
"Not even lunch," Renly laughed. "It's closer to dinner." He picked up one regardless and took a bite. He didn't know whether it was because he was hungrier than he'd ever been in his life, or whether it was because he was so used now to the rubbish they sold in Starbucks, but every mouthful tasted like a tiny bit of heaven. It was almost enough to distract him entirely from the beautiful creature sitting opposite him but his attention couldn't help but be caught when Loras reached down and pulled something out of a bag. Renly's pulse quickened slightly to see that it was a small stack of magazines, all of which had come out today.

“Look,” Loras said, spreading out a magazine at random over the table and smirking. “I thought I was going to have to spend a lot of time getting to know you, but I know all sorts of things now."

“How do they paint me?” Renly laughed. He didn't know whether he ought to dread seeing what had been written or not.

“It varies,” Loras told him "You want a read?" He passed Renly the first one on the pile.

Tentatively, Renly opened it and flicked through until he'd found the article that was about Loras. It was about half a page long and had a large picture of the two of them from last night, a photo which Renly was pleased to see that he looked very handsome in despite the fact that he'd got himself ready in less than fifteen minutes. Bracing himself, he settled himself as comfortably as he could in the metal chair to read what had been written about them. 

_REVEALED: Loras Tyrell finally makes his ongoing relationship with London mystery man public as he whisks his new man away on an amorous trip to Paris. Looking utterly spell-bound, Loras Tyrell was every inch the smitten kitten as the pair attended the much revered Valentino show together in the heart of Paris._

“God, it’s nauseating isn’t it?” Renly laughed, cringing. This was just the sort of thing that Sansa read at her desk on a daily basis and the sort of thing he mocked her for being interested in. 

Loras nodded. “It’s always like this." He handed him another one. "But this one’s a little better, even if Petyr Baelish did pay someone to get me into bed. They've done their research, and they don't go quite so far as to call me a smitten kitten.”

Duly, Renly picked it up and began to read, laughing when he realised he knew this one to be Sansa's absolute favourite. She had it delivered on a Saturday but she'd more often than not still be engrossed in its pages come Monday morning. She'd reread it through steadily, hiding it only when Stannis passed through on his morning rounds. 

 _EXCLUSIVE_ , it read.  _Baelish can exclusivey name Loras’ Tyrell’s new lover as Renly Baratheon, brother to esteemed CEO of Baratheon Inc™ . After a string of failed relationships with high profile models and actresses, Loras Tyrell appears to have changed tack, stepping out yesterday with down-to-earth Renly Baratheon for Valentino's annual show in Paris. Sources close to Renly Baratheon say he is “greatly enamoured” with the supermodel, whose current campaigns include menswear for Chanel and for Dior, deals rumoured to be worth a lucrative five million US dollars each. Whilst the pair were all smiles as they hung off each other’s arms at the Jardin des Tuileries last night, Baelish can exclusively reveal the tragic past behind that smiling façade. Orphaned before he reached his first birthday when his parents were killed in a car crash, Renly Baratheon was forced to make his own way in the world. After a rebellious childhood, in which he was given no less than two warnings for the attempted purchase of alcohol whilst under the age of eighteen and also excluded temporarily from school for undisclosed offences, he defied the odds to go on to study Law at Cambridge University, where after a party-filled three years, he eventually obtained a first class honours degree. No stranger to controversy- pictured here unconscious on a bathroom floor after a heavy night of drinking (inset) - he perhaps makes the perfect companion for Loras Tyrell who has previously been linked to troubled model Arianne Martell (pictured right in her current campaign for Victoria's Secret) and actress Daenaerys Targaeryen (pictured left in promotional pictures for Disney's How to Train your Dragon: the live action movie)._

Renly just groaned as he looked from the pictures of the two stunning women to the one of him on the bathroom floor. It had indeed been taken after a night of heavy drinking, Robert's last office party to be precise. The bathroom was Sansa's and you could just about make out Arya's muddy boots in the corner of the photo next to his head as she tried to shake him awake. 

“Sounds like you’ve got someone close to you very willing to spill the beans,” Loras laughed, looking very amused. “This goes to press at about three in the morning, and we weren’t seen here together until just before midnight.”

Renly just ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “I know who it will have been,” he admitted. He realised now that he should have told Sansa to keep her mouth shut. He supposed it wasn't too bad though, even if the magazine had made rather a lot of mountains out of very tiny molehills. "What's wrong with Arianne and that other girl?" he asked instead. "Why are they _troubled_?"

"It's nothing _that_ terrible," Loras laughed. "Arianne's on her third abortion to be fair, none of which, I might add, are anything at all to do with me, and she's had more affairs than I can count with married politicians and wealthy businessmen. Daenarys, though, she's just tragic. She was originally managed by her brother who was a little bit crazy apparently and beat her. There's more to the story, but I lose track." He sighed deeply. "When that magazine says _linked to,_ what they really mean is that we were spotted out together once."

Renly just laughed. "Fair enough. I'll keep that in mind the next time I read about you and one of your many female acquaintances."  
  
Loras just rolled his eyes and poured them both a glass of wine.  “So,” he smirked. “Want to tell me about your oh so rebellious childhood?”

Renly laughed. “They’ve really exaggerated that. Admittedly yes, I got caught trying to buy alcohol twice, but one of those was on order of my eldest brother, and the other- well the other I actually was trying to buy a bottle of vodka to go to a house party when I was seventeen.” He grinned, having very fond memories of that. Robert had had to come by to collect him from the police station where he'd been given his warning and he'd ended up being detained himself for driving under the influence. In the end, Stannis had had to come and bring both of them home. “The suspension from school on the other hand, as much as I’d like to pretend it was for something cool like smoking in the toilets or punching someone, it was actually because I reached my hundredth warning for violating the school uniform, and that was the only option left to them.”

Loras smiled, pushing his hair back off his face. “What were you? That kid who always had his shirt untucked and his tie hanging off by a thread?”

“Yep,” Renly said proudly. He'd been the envy of all of his class mates and as much as the teachers had been obligated to give him warnings like the rest of the school, he knew all too well that they'd been more than a little fond of him too.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a little while after that, both of them drinking their wine and enjoying the sunshine that was still warm on their faces despite the fact that the afternoon was slowly slipping away into evening. After a while though, Loras became visibly quite impatient, shifting a little restlessly in his chair whilst somehow still managing to look carelessly elegant. He just about had the restraint to wait until Renly had finished up the last pastry before he tugged less than gently on his hand. 

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked. 

“But it’s so sunny,” Renly laughed, turning his face up towards the sun. "Can’t we just have a little fun out here.” He thought outdoor sex on a hotel balcony in Paris would certainly be a story to tell. Telling Sansa about it would probably be almost as fun as the sex would be.

Loras just raised a scathing eyebrow. "Wow you’re slow for a Cambridge graduate," he said. "Don’t you realise that somebody will have already taken about a hundred pictures of us by now. And whilst I’m okay with someone writing nauseating comments about our Parisian lunch for two, I’m not quite ready to release my own sex tape.”

Renly had to smile at Loras' words. He wasn't too sure that any sex tape he and Loras made would be all that popular. He imagined that the majority of people who scrambled to watch such leaked videos were probably expecting to see a hot naked girl with fake boobs, rather than two albeit very hot men. He peered over the balcony though a little sceptically. “But we’re like at least four stories up," he laughed.

“Yes, with equally tall buildings with windows opposite us and a paparazzi who are very well acquainted with long lens cameras."

“I see your point,” Renly conceded. He supposed he ought to have really cottoned on to that quicker. He'd done a whole module on privacy laws in his second year and how long lens cameras took invading people's privacy to a whole new level of unacceptable. He supposed Loras was probably all too aware of that first-hand and so he let Loras lead him indoors without any more of a fuss. It was a little endearing even how impatient Loras was to sleep with him, and more than a little flattering.

He was amused when before anything, though, Loras went around the room closing all the curtains and double checking that there weren't any gaps. Evidently, this was indeed something he wished to keep private. He didn't waste any more time after that, however, and this time round, when Loras pushed himself up against him, Renly was able to respond, pushing Loras' hair off his face to kiss him properly. 

Loras was as eager as he had been the last time, and his lips parted easily under Renly's. He was unhesitating, generous even with his kisses, and they fell easily into a rhythm, Loras' hand wrapped warmly around the back of Renly's neck. They stayed like that for a good long while, in the earliest stages of undress, only the occasional button being undone by hot clumsy fingers as they pressed together. Even through the clothes, though, Loras' body was warm and inviting against Renly's own and Renly found it impossible to remember now how he'd ever managed to resist this yesterday, not when Loras offered it so easily on a plate for him. 

Renly's own patience slipped away as Loras pushed himself up harder against him in his desperate search for friction, and making a coarse, rough sort of sound against Loras' mouth that Renly thought he probably ought to be ashamed of, he couldn't help but take two rough handfuls of Loras' hair to pull him closer. He was being inarguably rough with him and no doubt tangling his curls beyond repair, but Loras didn't seem to mind. He was hard against Renly's leg, and with his shirt half undone and his curls flying away in every direction, Renly didn't think he'd ever seen anyone look so wild and beautiful. 

It wasn't until Loras was trapped underneath him, half-undressed, that Renly realised the flaw in their plans. "Fuck," he whispered against Loras' throat, trailing his thumb over his collarbone and leaving a faint wet mark that made Renly regret what he'd just realised even more. "I don't have any condoms. Do you?"

“The hotel will have sorted that,” Loras breathed impatiently. His heart was fluttering erratically inside his chest and he took Renly's hand in his own and pushed it downwards. 

“That cannot be standard service,” Renly laughed in between kisses. “Did you ask for them specially?”

Loras just shrugged a little violently and lifted up his hips so Renly could get his jeans off. “So what if I did?" he panted, desire merging his words together. "It was really good last time and I wanted to do it again.”

Renly grinned and pushed a hand down into Loras' jeans, tracing the length of his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He thought Loras was being surprisingly complimentary over what he’d have called fairly average sex, albeit with a very hot guy, but he and his ego weren’t about to complain. Loras wasn't going to either by the sound of it, and he actually whimpered as Renly slid his boxers down. It was such a desperate sound that Renly couldn't resist toying with him, and Loras arched his back deliciously as Renly teased him a little, licking hot wet stripes up the inside of his thighs and along his hips.

"Hurry up." Loras whined, but Renly just laughed and licked at his stomach, which in turn earned him an impatient hiss and fingers tightening painfully in his hair. 

" _Wait_ ," Renly urged him with a smile. Reducing his partners to pleading messes was perhaps the most rewarding aspect of making love to them, and Renly was particularly proud of what he'd done to Loras Tyrell. His entire body was quivering like a leaf, and he was wound up so tight that Renly feared he might snap like a taut string cut loose. It was most satisfying, and so it was with more than a little reluctance that he finally caved to Loras' incessant whining and took him into his mouth. He was nice enough with it too and didn't even tease him, wrapping his hand tightly around the base of Loras' cock as he took him further and further. Loras gasped audibly at that and he pushed up into Renly’s mouth quite forcefully. It was poor etiquette as far as Renly was concerned, but he supposed that’s what happened when you were rich and famous and you could do what you liked without repercussions, and so he thought he’d let it slide.

It didn’t take long at all before Loras’ breath was coming in ragged gasps and his hands were knotted in Renly’s hair so tightly it was almost painful. It was then that Renly stopped, kissing a slow path back up Loras’ stomach.

“So,” Renly said breathlessly. “Those condoms you were talking about…?”

Loras practically dived for one of the drawers and began rooting through it. The hotel evidently knew their clientèle well though for they’d conveniently placed them in the top drawer where most people would think to look, along with anything else you could possibly want for a good one night stand in a hotel, and Renly laughed as he saw they even had a selection of flavoured condoms and a small bottle of lube.

Loras pushed one into his hands and from then on it was just a blur of tangled limbs and Loras panting his name. 

 

* * *

 

It was late on Sunday evening by the time Renly got back into London and Renly wasted no time at all. It was Arya who opened the door, clad in very unflattering tracksuit bottoms and what might have been one of Gendry's shirts. She'd evidently not washed it for there were stains all down it and her hair was as it always was, all tangled about her face. It was such a shame, Renly thought. She could be quite pretty if she put in a little effort and he'd have liked to have given her some advice, but he supposed that if neither she or Gendry cared, then he had no business doing so.

"Hi Renly," she said. "Sansa's upstairs." And with that, she tromped back to the sitting room from which Renly could hear what sounded like a violent film playing. She'd evidently not bothered to take her shoes off that evening and her muddy boots had now left several trails of mud across the carpet. Sansa, Renly knew, would be furious, and as he made his way up the stairs, he made a mental note to himself to get out of the house as soon as Sansa showed any inclination of wanting to go downstairs.

Sansa was in her bedroom, sat in her underwear at her dressing table as she brushed out her long auburn hair. Round her neck hung a necklace that she was evidently admiring in the mirror. She startled as Renly pushed the door a little further open.

"Arya, I told you not to come in here anymore. This is _my_ room."

"It's me," Renly laughed from the doorway. "And nice underwear." He grinned as she hurriedly wrapped her silk dressing gown around herself, her cheeks turning a little pink.

"Renly!" she exclaimed, rising to her feet. "You never told me you were going to Paris. You could have called, texted!" 

Renly rolled his eyes, leaning lazily back against the door frame. "Yes I could have couldn't I, but that's beside the point. I think you might owe me an apology." 

"An apology?" She looked at him innocently.

"Yes, an apology," Renly laughed. "I do believe that when they wrote _sources close to Renly Baratheon_ , they ought to have simply printed _Miss Sansa Stark_." 

"Oh I couldn't help it," Sansa gushed. "What would you do if someone turned up at your door at one in the morning? It was so exciting, like in a movie. And I didn't tell them anything untrue, I just answered the list of questions he had for me."

Renly just smiled at her and shook his head. He'd say he was surprised, but he'd have been lying. She hadn't really done any real damage either, and so Renly didn't think he could be mad at her, not when she was evidently so excited about the whole thing. He'd had a too good weekend to be mad at anyone or anything, Renly thought. 

"Was it a reporter?" Renly asked. 

"I don't know really who he was. He was a Mr Hollard, and he was pretty average in every respect. But look what he gave me afterwards." She loosened the neck of her dressing gown to show off her necklace. "Courtesy of a Mr Petyr Baelish for being so helpful. I mean obviously he didn't come himself, but still how incredible is that? I've read his magazine since I was like nine!"

Renly grinned and bent to admire it. "Well at least I know you didn't sell me out for nothing," he conceded.

"Oh stop it. You know you love the attention." She took him by the shoulders and sat him down on her bed. "Now give me the gossip. Every tiny little bit."

Duly, Renly crossed his legs on her bed and prepared to go through everything that had happened with her. He was glad Arya was evidently not in bed, for he imagined that Sansa' squeals would wake the entire neighbourhood when he got to the part about him and Loras Tyrell being what was essentially an official couple.


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa was at home as she had promised Renly she would be, and she answered the door with a wide smile on her face. "Renly," she laughed, brushing a long auburn lock behind her ear and very deliberately showing off a pair of earrings she'd bought that week. "You said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

Renly sighed, slinging his coat over the bannister before following her into the kitchen. "Relationship trouble," he said wearily, still battling slightly with his conscious over whether seeking Sansa's advice was at all the right thing to do. 

Sansa's eyes widened and her curiosity must have been piqued for she didn't even comment on the fact that Renly hadn't admired her new earrings. "But you told me that these past three weeks have been perfect?" she said, drawing up two chairs and gesturing for Renly to sit down.

"Well yeah they sort of have," Renly admitted. He hadn't really been lying either when he'd told Sansa earlier that week that everything was going perfectly. Loras had been surprisingly successful in his attempts to spend as much time in London as possible, and they'd managed a good two or three dates a week, after all of which Loras had stayed over. There was quite clearly chemistry between them too, a lot of chemistry in fact, and all in all, Renly had to think that Loras Tyrell was practically perfect for him. They had plenty to talk about, lots in common, and they were both definite tens on anybody's hotness scale. There was only one thing missing, and it was something that Renly was ashamed to admit he was bothered by, because really it shouldn't have been a real issue. 

"There's just one tiny little problem," he admitted to Sansa, a blush creeping up his neck as he realised he was actually going to talk to Sansa about something so very private. "And I'd like a second opinion on it. _Your_ opinion to be precise." He laughed. "Before we reach that though, I have to warn you. This is definitely, inarguably in fact, a case of _Too Much Information._ "

Sansa laughed cheerfully, putting the kettle on to make them both a cup of coffee and proving to Renly that she truly did belong in the fifties. "Well, I do give the best advice, and as you know, I have no problem with Too Much Information."

"Yeah you do you liar," Arya called from the living room, her tone bored. "You told me you didn't want to hear another word when I was telling you about that friend of Gendry's. You know, the one that got that piercing on his-"

" _Arya!_ " Sansa cried, drowning out her sister's next words, which was a shame, Renly thought, because he'd have very much liked to hear where Gendry's friend had got a piercing. "That was because nobody wants to hear about that stupid friend of yours and Gendry's. You shouldn't even talk about such things either. It's not _ladylike_. It's coarse and it's horrible."

Arya just mimicked Sansa's words back to her in a mocking tone and evidently went back to her video game, the sound of gunshots and angry shouts resuming.

"Well," Renly laughed, accepting his cup of coffee and setting it down on a coaster as to not face Sansa's wrath by risking leaving a watermark. "I warn you. This conversation isn't going to be ladylike either."

"Well it's different," Sansa said loftily, raising her voice so that her sister would most definitely be able to hear. "You'll talk about it tastefully, because you're a gentleman, not some dirty little girl who always looks like she just crawled out of a gutter somewhere."

Renly grinned. "I do my best." He sighed deeply, taking a sip of his coffee as he wondered where to start. Attempting not to be crude was going to make explaining his predicament that little bit harder, and he already had the difficult enough job of getting his point across without coming off like a whiny teenage boy who didn't know how lucky he had it. "Here goes then," he started. "And please don't judge me too much for this. Promise?"

"Promise." Sansa repeated, and she nodded earnestly at him.

"I promise too." Arya called. "If anyone's asking."

"Well then," Renly laughed, ignoring her. "To get straight to the point, I don't think my sex life has been this dull since I was in high school."

Sansa stifled a laugh, putting both her hands in front of her mouth. " _No?_ " she breathed, still giggling. "I can't believe I'm sitting here having this conversation with you about _Loras Tyrell_. He'd be so embarrassed wouldn't he? I mean he's world famous, and he's had like thousands of girlfriends, and boyfriends probably. You'd expect him to be swinging from chandeliers and stuff."

"Well unfortunately not," Renly laughed. Sansa's words made guilt pool uncomfortably in his stomach though. Loras would be absolutely mortified if he knew that he was having this conversation with Sansa. He was evidently a very proud individual, who didn't take criticism well, and Renly didn't like to think how horrified he would be to be discussed in such a way. He tried not to think about it. Loras was at a photo shoot for some Chanel perfume this afternoon, with some equally hot and famous female model, and he never even had to know that this conversation had ever taken place.

"So what's the problem?" Sansa asked. "What does he do that's so bad?"

"Well," Renly sighed. "It's more a problem of what he doesn't do. If you get what I mean?" 

Sansa just cocked her head, clearly not understanding.

Renly tried again. "Well, we've slept together quite a lot now, and practically each time, I..., well,  _you know_ , beforehand?" Avoiding being crude was a lot harder than he'd expected it to be. 

"No?" Sansa said, bemused. "I still don't know what you mean."

"He means that he gives him head," Arya said loudly and bluntly from the next room.

"Thanks Arya," Renly laughed, running a hand through his hair and grinning sheepishly at Sansa.

"Oh," Sansa said, evidently cottoning on. "And let me guess, he doesn't reciprocate. That's the problem?"

"Not once," Renly sighed, feeling very much the whiny teenage boy even though he was fast approaching twenty six. "And I'm not a demanding guy, I'm really not. I just feel that that's a little unfair right? And he evidently really enjoys what I do to him, like anyone sane would really, because I have some serious skills,"

Arya snorted loudly from the next room. 

"I do!" Renly protested, laughing at her disdain. "You just convince Gendry to spend a night with me and he'll tell you. I've absolutely no problem with incest right?"

Arya just made a disgruntled sound. "I bet you'd just love that wouldn't you? It'd be like having sex with a mirror."

"You're right," Renly laughed, grinning and winking at Sansa. "That does sound pretty great." He didn't bother trying to deny his vanity. It was always a futile endeavour, and the fact that he was dating Loras now made any denial even more superfluous really. It was simple really- he admired beautiful things, and one of the beautiful things that he couldn't help but admire happened to be himself. He was certain there were worse crimes.

"Don't listen to her," Sansa said indignantly. "Gendry doesn't look anything like you. He's dirty, and he never brushes his hair, or washes his shirts. _And_ he trails mud over the carpet."

Renly wasn't sure what Gendry trailing mud all over the carpet had to do with the two of them looking alike, but he wasn't about to point it out.  "Mmm." he agreed. "But really, we've gone off track. I wanted your opinion remember? Do you think I'm being unreasonable here in expecting a little tiny bit of reciprocation?"

"No not at all," Sansa told him. "Of course that's unfair. It happens to us girls all the time and it's just as unfair to you now as it is then."  
  
"So what do you do about it?" Renly asked, knowing that Sansa would probably have read countless articles on this sort of thing  
  
"Well you've got to try and understand _why_ he's not reciprocating," Sansa stressed. "I mean there's all sorts of reasons. Maybe he's rubbish at it, or he finds it disgusting. All the times that that sort of thing happened to me, it was because the guy was a massive jerk, and disrespectful to women."  
  
"Which is basically a description of any guy you go for ever." Arya called, very truthfully, Renly had to think. Sansa had unbelievably bad taste in men. She tended to go for attractive guys but always the ones who would treat her badly, and show her less respect than they'd show a herd of cattle. The only nice guy she'd ever fancied would have to be himself, Renly reckoned, and that had been hopeless for different reasons.

"Hmm," Renly agreed though. "Well I don't think he's a jerk, but maybe he finds it below him. You know, I imagine he can get away with a lot of take and no give in bed usually. Most people would probably just be jumping up and down for joy at the fact that they'd scored with him in the first place."  
  
"Agreed," Sansa said. "That's the danger with hot, successful men. If they know that they're hot and successful, which Loras Tyrell probably does, then they can get away with being as selfish as they like. I mean nobody's going to ever be brave enough to just casually demand that the fun be equally doled out, and what guy would choose to put any effort in anyway when he's got the option of just lying back and enjoying it." She sighed, plaiting her hair absent-mindedly. "But how to fix the problem?" She thought long and hard before her eyes lit up. "I know exactly what you should do," she exclaimed. "We'll look through all my old magazines and we'll find an article about men who are selfish in bed like that, and then you just have to leave it lying around for him for him to notice and get the hint. It's the perfect subtle message!"

“Or," Arya said loudly, raining on her sister's parade. "You could just ask him and cut all the stupid."  
  
Sansa and Renly looked at each other. For once Arya actually might have had a point; communication was after all very important. "I suppose I _could_ talk to him about it," Renly mused. "But that would be a little rude don't you think?"

"Yeah because bitching about him behind his back is _so_ polite," Arya pointed out.

"It's different," Renly sighed, trying to placate his guilt again. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him, and I'm doing my best to find a way to tell him he's dull in bed without wounding his pride. He's got such a temper on him, I wouldn't want to set it off by insulting him."

"But maybe he needs his pride wounded a little bit," Sansa laughed. "You can't go wrong surely with a tiny bit of constructive criticism."

"Maybe," Renly agreed quietly.

 

* * *

 

Renly kept her advice in mind, and when Loras came round that evening after his shoot and they went all but straight upstairs, he tried to give some more thought as to how to best handle it. After all, he knew that the longer he left it, the harder it would get to ever broach such a sensitive topic. Knowing him too, it would be too easy to just never say anything and content himself with having mediocre sex for however long this relationship lasted. 

Loras behaved as he usually did, with his usually poor etiquette, and as seemed habit now, when Renly sat up from where he was bent over Loras' cock, Loras rolled over to let Renly ready him. Renly had previously thought that only old married couples got stuck into a routine like this, a veritable rut, but it appeared he'd been wrong. He and Loras Tyrell had managed it in less than a month of officially dating. He knew thus, that what Loras was now expecting was for him to ready him gently with his fingers before turning him back over to fuck him, probably whilst Loras would pull his arms stubbornly around him as he always did. 

This time, though, Renly waited expectantly. He hoped that if he didn't make a show of rummaging around for a condom like he usually did after he'd given him head, Loras might get the message that he wasn't ready to fuck him quite yet.

Indeed, after a few moments, Loras lifted his head up off the pillow. "Is everything all right Renly?" he asked a little breathlessly. He looked a bit bemused and Renly sighed. This was his opportunity, and he wondered whether he should take it. It seemed wrong to ruin the moment with such talk, but it would be more than a little hard to tackle the subject this evening when he'd already assured him that everything was all right. He'd be going back on his words, and really, in the long term, Renly reckoned that it might be better to get it out in the open.

He took a deep breath and lay down next to him. "Actually, Loras, there was something I wanted to talk to you about," 

Loras smiled, his breath still coming in rough gasps. "All right then. Spit it out won't you though?" he laughed, tilting his head playfully up for a kiss. "Right now wouldn't be when _I'd_ choose to have a conversation."

Renly gave him the quick kiss he was fishing for and then propped himself up on his elbow, hoping that that might help it seem like it was a casual conversation he was going for. "“Loras," he started hesitantly. "I don’t know how to put this, but-“

“But what?” Loras' brow furrowed.

“But you can be a little bit, well, _selfish_ , sometimes, in bed?”

“Selfish?” Loras frowned and if Renly wasn’t sorely mistaken he looked a little embarrassed. “How do you mean?" For a few moments, the haughtiness ran away from his face, and without it, he suddenly looked ever so small, lost in Renly's big double bed, like a bird without feathers. Loras seemed to sense this too and for the first time since they'd been to bed together, he grasped at the covers ever so slightly and pulled them around himself as if he were cold. 

Renly bit back a sigh. He hadn't meant to injure Loras' pride, but it appeared he'd already done so. "Well, you know," he said quietly, shifting closer to wrap his arms around a now very reluctant looking Loras. "I do things for you, nice things… you could reciprocate sometimes, maybe?”

“Sure,” Loras said stiffly.

Renly gave him a kiss that wasn't returned. “Would that be all right?” he asked tentatively. He'd have liked to push for a few more things too- perhaps for Loras to remember his manners and not push his head down whilst he took him in his mouth, or for him not to pull Renly's arms around him each and every time they fucked, or maybe even for them to shake things up once in a while and not have sex in the same god damn position every god damn time- but he kept quiet. He supposed it was best to do these things little by little, as to not offend Loras too much.

“Yes that's all right.” Loras said back, not meeting his eye. “But now was the time to tell me? _Seriously?_ ”

Renly laughed. "It really wasn't," he admitted. "But you asked if everything if was all right, and I didn't want to lie, and then have to go back later on what I'd already said." He stopped when he realised he was rambling a little incoherently. "Does that make any sense?"  
  
"Sure." Loras said rather shortly. He hadn't emerged from his cocoon of blankets yet and so Renly reached inside to get things started again, thinking this the only way now to try and dissolve the tension. Sex was rather good like that, Renly supposed. It was beautifully easy to forget everything and anything and just lose yourself in how it felt.

"Let's just forget about it all now and enjoy ourselves," Renly said as cheerfully as he could manage. He reached around for Loras' cock and was surprised to find it soft. “Or not?” he laughed a little nervously. It hadn't been a long conversation they'd had and Loras had been as hard as anything when he'd left him, but it appeared that their conversation had ruined that, that it had wounded Loras' pride that little bit more than he'd expected. “Did I upset you?” he breathed, feeling the guilt pool in his stomach once more even though he knew Loras Tyrell could probably do with being taken down a peg or two occasionally.

“No,” Loras said very shortly, jerking violently out of Renly's embrace. "I'm just not in the mood anymore." He was quite evidently embarrassed now, and his cheeks and the tops of his ears had turned a distinct shade of fuchsia. The haughtiness had returned though, and it was with his nose in the air that Loras got out of bed and rummaged around for his clothes. "I'm going out for a cigarette," he scowled, and Renly supposed he shouldn't be surprised, for going for a smoke seemed to always be Loras Tyrell's solution to any problem. 

"All right," Renly did his best to smile. "Well are you still staying over?"  
  
"Did I say I wasn't?" Loras all but snapped as he tugged his jeans on. "I'll stay unless you don't want me to Renly."  
  
"Of course I want you to," Renly sighed, a little resigned. He should have known that this conversation would set Loras' temper off. He did know better though than to try and speak reason to him when he was in a mood, and so he just climbed under the covers himself. "Come back to bed whenever you're ready to," he told him.  
  
Loras gave a very curt nod before stepping out onto the balcony.

 

* * *

  
Renly assumed that Loras must have joined him in bed at some point, but as it was, he was out on the balcony again by the he woke up, even in spite of the fact that it was frosty and cold out. He did have one of Renly's jumpers on though, and Renly smiled at the sight of him as he went out to retrieve him and pull him back to bed. His clothes swamped Loras, and yet the look kind of suited him. He was just a mass of wool and very curly hair that Renly wanted to scoop up into his arms. It was tempting to do that now in fact, and the only reason he refrained from doing so was because Loras had a lit cigarette in one hand and his laptop on his knees.

Loras smiled up at him when he saw him, but suspiciously, Renly thought, he seemed in quite the hurry to put the lid of his laptop down. From experience Renly knew that people only tended to do that when they were embarrassed about whatever they were doing. 

"What you looking at?" Renly laughed, bending to drop a kiss into his curls. 

Loras rolled his eyes. "Nothing that would interest you," he insisted, though he obviously wasn't in such a bad mood that he'd pass up Renly bending to give him a proper kiss too.  
  
"No?" Renly grinned. "It's porn isn't it?"

"It's nothing," Loras repeated, his grasp on his laptop tightening even more suspiciously. 

"But it is!" Renly laughed triumphantly, convinced now of his guilt. "And really Loras, I should have the right to know what weird kind of fetishes you have!" He reached down to pull the laptop out of Loras' hands, and having both longer arms and more strength, it didn't take him long to wrestle it out of Loras' grasp and flip up the lid. He was surprised to see that it wasn't porn, not quite. In actual fact, it was a website with a step by step guide to oral sex, and Renly suddenly felt horrendously guilty.

"I didn't mean to make you nervous last night,” he lamented.

Loras just rolled his eyes at him, glaring ever so slightly at him from underneath the curls that had fallen over his eyes in their little struggle. He didn't look too impressed, and for someone who must have been very used to having their privacy invaded, he didn't seem to appreciate it right now. "You didn't." he said, unfazed.

“Just do what you usually do," Renly laughed. "I’m sure I’ll love it. I’m not fussy.”

Loras shrugged and reached to have his laptop back. “I’ve never given head before.” He said bluntly.

Renly just cocked his head. Of all the reasons that had he and Sansa had discussed, that one surprised him. That said, he'd been to bed with guys who had been similar- guys who'd refused ever to bottom for him, or who felt that giving head would make them feminine or submissive. He supposed that Loras would probably have been able to get away with being like that. As he'd said to Sansa, nobody who got lucky enough to go to bed with a supermodel was ever going to insist that everything were fair. 

“Is it that you don’t like the idea?” he pressed gently, waiting for Loras to extinguish his cigarette before reaching out to take his hand and lead him inside into the warm. 

Loras shrugged as he took his hand. “No it’s because nobody's ever asked me to before.” He paused, and then looking more than a little conflicted, opened his mouth again. “Am I all right in bed?” he asked very quietly, stiffly, as if he didn't even want to acknowledge that he was asking the question. Indeed, Renly imagined it must have been difficult for him, proud as he was. 

“Of course you are,” Renly told him softly as he bundled Loras back into bed, woolly jumper and all. He was rather glad for the way that Loras had phrased that question, for whilst he could quite happily agree that Loras was _all right_ in bed, he wouldn't have quite managed it if he'd asked if he were _good_ in bed. In truth, he'd had many, many better lovers than Loras Tyrell; he suspected that everybody who had ever slept with him had probably had better lovers than Loras Tyrell. He imagined though that nobody had ever had the guts to tell Loras that, and as shameful as it was, he certainly wasn't going to be the first one to start. 


	7. Chapter 7

Renly supposed that the shift from Loras staying in hotels to staying with him must have been a gradual one, so gradual perhaps that it was able to creep up on them without either of them truly noticing, but it was more than a little startling, when one Tuesday evening as Renly was doing the dishes, he looked up and realised that Loras lived with him. 

Not officially of course, but everywhere he looked it was evident that he didn't live in his flat alone. One of Loras' jackets was slung over a kitchen chair, and on the fridge was a large yellow post-it note that had a list of what Loras called _Go Sees_ but were really just a stylish way of saying that he had to meet with a designer at a certain time, and Renly knew that if he ventured into the bathroom that the evidence would be overwhelming. Loras' toothbrush would be on the left of Renly's own, very brightly green with yellow stripes, and the shelf in the shower would packed with all sorts of serums and conditioners that apparently tamed curly hair. Thinking about it, Renly couldn't even remember the last time Loras had been in London but hadn't spent every night as his place. Oddly, it wasn't a particularly scary thought.

Even now, he was waiting for Loras to come home and as if by cue, there was a loud knock at the front door. Drying his hands on a tea towel, Renly made his way down the stairs. He hated the fact that his flat was on the second floor, and he supposed it was beyond time now that he gave Loras a spare key. If only because he loathed to walk up and down the stairs so often.

He'd assumed that it was Loras outside, but when he opened the door he wasn't actually too sure. The person on his doorstep had hair redder than Sansa's and it took Renly until Loras leant up and kissed him to truly recognise him. Loras had told him that he'd coming straight from a photo shoot but even so, Renly couldn't help but be a little amused at the sight of him. Aside from looking like somebody had taken a match to his curls and set them on fire, bizarrely, he also several yellow and orange feathers stuck in his hair.

“So,” Renly laughed, a little taken aback as he ushered him in. “Are you officially a redhead now?” He took one fiery red curl and wrapped it around his finger. Surprisingly, for he'd only ever seen Loras as very blond, it suited him rather well. He had that perfect porcelain skin that Sansa also had and once Renly had got over the initial surprise, he had to admit that it was quite a striking look on him, as no doubt any look would be on him.

But Loras laughed and shook his head. “It’s wash out," he told Renly with a bright smile as they headed up the stairs. "Usually they take it out for me, but there’s always so much hanging around at shoots so I just came home.”

Renly grinned at him, flattered. "But what's with the feathers?" he couldn't help but ask, plucking a stray yellow one out of Loras' curls. 

"Something to do with phoenixes." Loras said. "For British Vogue. Editorial obviously."

"Sounds fun," Renly laughed. He rather wished that his job involved having stylists attack him with paint and feathers rather than having to constantly report to Stannis and do his best to dig Robert out of the latest legal hole he'd got himself into. 

Loras shrugged, throwing his coat over the bannister very carelessly. "A little too much orange paint for my liking but yeah it was fun." He ran a hand through his hair and wrinkled his nose. "Do you mind if I go wash this out now though? The longer it stays in, the more likely it is that I'll end up with pink hair. I made that mistake the last time and I'd really rather not have to bleach red hair dye out of my hair for the second time in my life."

"Sure you can," Renly laughed, wondering if he was going to very much regret having a white bathroom. "I'm just going to finish off the washing up then." He gave Loras a very lingering kiss before heading back to the kitchen, crossing his fingers that he wouldn't need to pay Gendry and Arya to come round with a big tub of white paint and fix his bathroom.

There wasn't much washing up left to do and when he'd tidied the whole kitchen and Loras still hadn't appealed, he decided he should probably go and find him, if only to check that there weren't bright red hand prints all up his beautiful white walls.

He knocked on the bathroom door. “Can I come in?” he called, thinking that there was probably no reason why not, seeing as he'd seen Loras naked a thousand times and Loras had never been particularly shy or modest to start with.

“Sure,” Loras called back over the sound of the water, and so Renly pushed open the door, not able to help laughing a little. Evidently tired of standing, Loras had sat down cross legged in the bath, the shower head aimed directly at his hair.  It was quite extraordinary really, even under the powerful jet of water, his hair still refused to stay at all straight and although he must have been at it for a while, the water streaming off the tips of his curls was still running distinctly pink.

Renly laughed as he sat down on the floor next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up and leaning his arms lazily over the side to enjoy the hot water. “How much red dye did they put in there?” he asked a little incredulously. 

“A lot,” Loras told him with an apologetic smirk. “At the beginning, it looked like somebody had died in here.”

Renly shook his head exasperatedly, though he was pleased to see that there didn't appear to be any lasting red stains anywhere. Smiling, he took the shower head from Loras and tilted his head down so that he could get the back of Loras' hair for him. The water ran especially pink there, and Renly wondered if they were going to be there all night- a less miserable prospect than it could have been seeing as he had a pretty decent view. It wasn't often, Renly thought, that you got to have a supermodel in your bath tub, entirely at your disposal.

Eventually, though, the water ran clear and Loras was able to turn off the shower. “Do you have any dark towels Ren?” he asked. "I don't want to use any of your white ones for my hair. Unless you're feeling that one of your towels is severely lacking a pink tie-dye effect."

“Yeah probably,” Renly laughed, rummaging around in the cupboard where he kept all of his towels. He didn't have any dark ones but he did have a red one and he supposed that would do just as well. He smiled as Loras rubbed his hair rather carelessly with it, letting Renly bundle him up with another one and pat him dry.

"I know we said we were going to go get dinner, but do we have to go out?" Loras yawned, as he made his way to the Renly's bedroom and flopped down on the bed very elegantly, his wet curls fanning out behind him.

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Are you _admitting_ you're tired?" Loras never seemed to sleep. In fact Renly didn't think he'd ever even seen him doze. Despite that though, Loras would never own up to ever being tired, or worn out. He just sailed through from day to day, with an energy that Renly was rather envious of. Tiredness, it seemed, was something that was beneath Loras, something that he didn't deign to succumb to. 

"No," Loras said quickly. "I'm not tired in the slightest."

Renly grinned. Loras didn't need to say any more. "How much sleep did you get last night then?" he asked suspiciously.

"A couple of hours maybe," Loras admitted, stretching out and smiling up at Renly through half-closed eyes. He looked a little like a cat there, and Renly couldn't resist sitting down beside him to stroke him, wondering if he might purr. 

"You sure you don't want to go out then?" he asked softly.

Loras nodded and Renly laughed. "All right then, but I'm claiming dibs on choosing the film."

Loras rolled his eyes. "Veto on anything Disney, and anything that stars Hugh Grant and is Christmas themed."

It was Renly's turn to roll his eyes. "What do you have against Love Actually?" he whined, thinking of how Sansa would have gasped in horror if she'd heard the tone of Loras' voice. "It's the middle of December. It's like _tradition_ to watch that at some point."

"As you and my sister tell me," Loras said dryly with a half smile, standing up and going to Renly's wardrobe. There was a shelf in it that Renly had put aside for him and Loras pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans of his own before raiding Renly's clothes and pulling one of his jumpers over his head like he usually did, a dark green one this time that Renly was particularly fond of. 

Grinning, Renly dragged him and his duvet to the sofa, and sat him down. Laughing, he threw the duvet over his head whilst he tried to find Love Actually on his shelves. He was disappointed when Loras didn't appear to be fooled at all, finding his way out of the duvet very quickly and raising a sceptical eyebrow at him. "I know what you're doing Renly," he warned, though Renly was pleased to hear that underneath all the attitude, he actually sounded quite amused. He wrapped the duvet around him and stared up at Renly as if daring him to do it.

"But please?" Renly tried, bending down to kiss the disdainful smile off Loras' face. "It's Christmas, and you're sleeping under my roof tonight. My roof, my rules right?" 

Rolling his eyes, Loras shrugged. "Fine," he said, crossing his arms like a child who hadn't got his way before stretching out across the length of the sofa. "But don't expect me to enjoy it."

Renly grinned and shoved the DVD in. Loras didn't seem in any hurry to shuffle up and make room for him and so Renly squeezed himself in behind him, propping himself up on a few cushions so that he could see. Loras' back was warm against his chest and Renly thought it all rather cosy- cuddled up on his sofa together in big jumpers under his duvet. And whilst Loras evidently didn't agree with his choice of film, Renly didn't see how anybody could deny that it was the perfect thing to watch at Christmas. 

As Loras had promised though, he didn't seem particularly enamoured by any of the storylines Renly found moving, and the next time he looked down, he was surprised to see Loras' eyes closed, quite clearly asleep against him. Oddly for something so natural, it didn't suit him at all, and Renly thought that Loras looked more naked asleep than he ever did without his clothes. It was like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs almost, and yet Renly felt a sudden rush of affection for him, a fondness. Curled up as he was, with the covers balled loosely in his fist, he looked almost cute, and whilst Renly had probably seen hundreds of photos of him over the years in magazines, he'd never once seen him even border on looking cute. Smiling, Renly tucked one of Loras’ curls behind his ear. The ends of his hair had dried but the top hadn’t in the slightest, and Renly rather liked watching how the colour changed slowly from a dark sandy colour where it was still wet to a bright sunny blond at the end.

Loras had been asleep for an hour when there was a knock at the door. Loras had shifted slowly in his sleep, and with his head tucked now under Renly's chin, Renly didn't reckon he'd be able to get up at all without moving Loras entirely. Taking the lazy option then, he simply stayed put, tucking the duvet up around Loras' shoulders and stifling a yawn.

After a few minutes though, Renly soon heard the key in the lock and the sound of delicate footsteps on the hall. He bit back a groan. Sansa was the only one with a spare key to his flat, and she only used it when she had something for him that needed to be urgently signed. Often, Renly would come home to find that Sansa had left a large pile of papers on his kitchen table, usually with a pink post-it note stuck to the first one, informing him that it was Stannis who had sent over the papers.

Being Sansa though, and naturally hesitant, she knocked on the door to his actual flat as well. “Renly?” she called. "Are you actually out or just being lazy?"

“It’s open,” Renly called back. 

“So lazy it is then,” Sansa scolded as she made her way into the hall, sounding very much like she did when she was telling off her sister.

“Well, actually I have company,” Renly laughed, unable not to grin when he heard her sharp intake of breath at his words. She'd been all but dying to be introduced to Loras since Renly had been on the first date with him, and every week she asked him when she would finally get to meet him. Now though, she seemed nervous, and Renly heard her falter in the hall, evidently not knowing whether she could casually just stroll into the living room to join them. There was a mirror in his hallway and Renly would have bet more money than he had that she was hurriedly checking her hair in it, or even reapplying her make up.

“It's all right Sansa," he told her. "You can come in."  
  
Tentatively almost, she pushed open the door. She evidently didn't spot Loras under the duvet as he was and she seemed more than a little disappointed. “I thought you said you had company,” she admonished. “I got all excited. I even reapplied my lipstick." 

“I do have company,” Renly laughed. He pushed back the blankets. “Admittedly, not very lively company at the moment.”

Sansa's eyes widened and she came over. “ _Is he asleep?_ ” she gushed. Awestruck, she bent down to peer at him, wobbling in her high heels as Renly prayed that Loras didn't choose this moment to wake up. He didn't think that Loras would be all too impressed to have some strange girl watching him so curiously.

“Yep,” Renly laughed softly. "But shh, not so loud. He doesn’t admit it often, but he’s a proper insomniac.”

“This is so surreal,” Sansa whispered. “He’s actually asleep.”

Renly smiled and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Yeah it is pretty bizarre isn’t it.” He laughed and ruffled Loras' curls in a way that would have wound him up had he been awake. “But isn’t he just a sweetheart?”

“He’s adorable.” Sansa breathed. “I still can’t believe this Renly. You have the most famous male model in the world asleep on your sofa, and you’re just so blasé about it all!”

Renly just shrugged. "It did seem super surreal at first, but you get used to it." He sighed and eyed up the very large pile of paperwork that Sansa had under her arm. “How bad is it?” he asked, hoping that it would be one of those long documents that just needed the very last page signed. If he had to sign every page, he'd be there for a very long while.

“Not _sooo_ bad," she told him. "Stannis emailed it all to me an hour ago. Needs forty-two signatures.”

Renly sighed. For this he actually would have to get up as he didn't think his signature would be particularly legible if he tried to do it lying down. As gently as he could, he slid out from underneath Loras, tucking the blanket back around him when he was done.

“So,” Sansa hissed as they sat down at the kitchen. “I know it's not ladylike to be nosy but how’s your little problem in the bedroom going along?”

“He tries?” Renly laughed. “He’s pretty useless at being gentle but to his credit, he really does try.” That was no overstatement, Renly thought. It was endearing how hard Loras Tyrell had evidently tried to please him since their little conversation. tIt appeared that he'd taken Renly’s comments truly to heart, and whist it was if the two of them had an unspoken agreement to never bring the uncomfortable topic up again, Renly had to give Loras points for effort. 

"So less boring now?" Sansa pressed, leaning in.

Renly laughed, shrugging. "Less unfair," he conceded. "But still a little meh." He'd done his best to spice things up a little, and yet a few days ago, he had made the misinformed decision of putting Loras on top. It had seemed logical at the time- Loras was beautiful, a true pleasure to look at, and Renly didn't think he'd ever had a better view in bed than he had done then. That had been where the good points ended though. Loras had been all angles, angles that probably would have looked great if Renly had been taking pictures of him, but that made for an incredibly uncomfortable experience in bed. He just didn't seem to grasp the concept that sex was a two person job, and that any rhythm needed to be found _together_. Needless to say though, Renly hadn't breathed a word, and had simply turned him over as soon as he could without being rude.

Sansa shrugged. "I wouldn't care," she breathed. "He's just so handsome, and dreamy. You need to marry him and then I can be your bridesmaid! Or he can mentor me and I can be America's Next Top Model even though I'm not American!"

Renly rolled his eyes, setting himself to signing the first paper and taking it for granted that he wasn't signing over his soul. "You're jumping the gun a little bit no? he questioned. "You haven't even met him yet."

"But I'll get to tonight right?" she asked, a hopefulness in her voice that almost bordered on desperation. "Please say I get to meet him tonight!" 

“Sure,” Renly laughed. “He’s already been asleep for an hour, and I don’t think he’s physically capable of sleeping much longer.”

Sansa nodded excitedly, and as if it would make Loras wake faster, she began turning the pages for Renly as he worked his way through the stack of papers Stannis had sent him. It was long boring work, and Renly found he resented the younger of his two brothers that little bit more with every page that Sansa turned. Personally, he didn't see what difference it could make to send something off around lunchtime tomorrow rather than very very early in the morning. With Stannis being Stannis though, lunchtime was simply not an option.

Renly had just finished when they heard Loras stir in the next room, and he rolled his eyes as Sansa once again began running her fingers through her hair.

"It looks fine," he hissed under his breath. "You'll just make it greasy doing that."

Gulping, she nodded, and with a lot of effort, lowered her hands and composed herself. 

"Renly?" Loras yawned from the other room. "Where'd you go?" He pushed open the door to the kitchen and came in, his hair a little ruffled. Sleepily, he rubbed his eyes. He looked a little baffled to see somebody else there and he cocked his head curiously to the left.

Renly grinned at him as he saw Sansa biting back a squeal of excitement. "This is one of my friends," he told him. "Want to come meet her?”

“Give me a sec,” he said sleepily, and with that he wandered off down the hall, leaving Sansa almost hyperventilating in his absence. He was back in a few minutes, and Renly supposed he must have splashed himself with a lot of very cold water, for he was much more awake and much more like himself. 

“Hi,” he laughed, smiling at Sansa from the doorway.

“Hi,” Sansa breathed back, and Renly suddenly feared her about to turn as red as her hair.

“Loras,” he said simply, holding out his hand for her.

“I know” she whispered, shaking his hand rather feebly. Renly just cringed for her. For weeks, Sansa had been planning what she would say to Loras when she finally met him, and yet as Renly had always known would be the case, that moment had come and all the cool casual stuff she had practised had flown straight out the window.

Loras, however, looked very amused and Renly suspected that he was probably used to young star-struck girls getting tongue-tied around him. "And you are?” he prompted.

“Oh,” She seemed to realise her mistake and slowly a deep red flush spread up her neck. “I’m Sansa," she blushed, looking up at him with a rather awed expression on her face that made Renly fear she was suddenly going to blurt out that she was slightly in love with him and that she kept a picture of him in her fridge to motivate her whenever she was on a diet. Thankfully, though, she shut her mouth.

“Well it’s lovely to meet you,” Loras said and Renly was pleased to see that he could be friendly if he wanted to as well as a little stand-offish. “I’ve heard lots about you.”

“You have?” She breathed, her eyes widening until she resembled Bambi more than a little bit.

“Mm-hmm, Renly talks about you often.” Raising an eyebrow, he glanced disdainfully down at the stack of papers on the kitchen table. “I’ll leave you guys to it then.” And with that, he disappeared off in the direction of Renly's bedroom, leaving Sansa to put herself back together a little. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken Sansa's height from Sophie Turner's height who plays her in the TV show, and please take any conversions in clothing sizes from UK to US with a pinch of salt! Nobody seems to agree on them you see. And sorry to everyone who's not from either the States or the UK- I had to draw a line somewhere unfortunately.

Sansa headed home once Renly had signed everything, though not without several furtive glances down the hall to see if she could catch one more glimpse of Loras. Renly just rolled his eyes and saw her out, pressing a twenty pound note into her hand for the fare once he'd made sure she'd hailed a cab, the tube being long closed. Once the cab had rounded the corner, he headed back upstairs, seeking out Loras as Sansa had longed to do.

Unsurprisingly, he was in bed but not asleep, propped up in bed as he texted someone. He had one of Renly’s old t-shirts on now, and Renly had to think that for someone who made his living in clothes, he certainly didn’t seem to wear his own very often. He looked up when Renly came in and smiled.

“So she was interesting?” Loras laughed dryly, and Renly didn’t need to ask who he was referring to.

“Yeah…” Renly admitted, running a hand through his hair sheepishly as he tugged his jeans off and climbed into bed beside him. It was cold in bed despite Loras already being in it and he pulled the covers up around his shoulders. “Sansa's a bit of a fan of yours.”

“I’d never have guessed,” Loras laughed, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Now please don’t tell me she’s an aspiring model too. That would be the cherry on top of a fantastically annoying cake.”

Renly laughed, wondering how best to describe the fickle redhead who’d just left. “Well Sansa’s an aspiring _celebrity_ ,” he decided on. “Sometimes it’s an actress she wants to be, or the lead singer in the next big girl band. Or to win X-factor, or to marry Prince Harry and be more popular than Kate Middleton. And yeah sure, sometimes she’s desperate to be the next Kate Moss too.”

Loras laughed, pulling Renly towards him under the covers. “So she’s a typical teenage girl then?”

“Pretty much,” Renly conceded, smiling as Loras wrapped his arms tightly around him and pushed himself close as he always did when they were in bed together. “A typical teenage girl who’s currently working as my very useless personal assistant.” He smiled widely, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Just out of interest though, would she have any shot at doing what you do?”

Loras sighed, rolling his eyes. “Do you know how often I am asked that question Renly?”

“Aww come on,” Renly chuckled, kissing the exasperated expression off Loras’ face. “Humour me will you?” He ran his fingertips across Loras’ cheek, doing his best to look sad, knowing that nobody in their right mind could resist that face. “You know you want to.”

Loras held out for a few seconds, until Renly stroked his hands very softly down his sides and Loras evidently feared that he was about to be tickled. “Fine,” he sighed heavily, rolling over until he was on top of Renly, his elbows planted each side of his face and his curls tickling his nose. “Well first things first, how tall is she?”

Renly tucked Loras’ hair behind his ears for him as he thought. “Five foot nine maybe,” he decided, thinking with a little fondness of Sansa’s despair over her height. She had very strict rules for dating, and one of them was that a man still had to be taller than her in heels. Needless to say, that ruled out plenty of nice men that Renly imagined would be perfect for Sansa, and it was probably a factor as to why she always ended up with very cocky men who were admittedly very tall.

“She’s right height,” Loras conceded with a shrug. “But you know what any agency would tell her?”

“What?” Renly laughed.

“She’s too fat.”

“She’s not fat.” Renly protested indignantly, affronted on Sansa's behalf.

“Well obviously she’s not _actually_ fat,” Loras said dismissively, as if that were evidently the case. "She’s got a lovely figure. Womanly, statuesque, whatever you want to call it. But if she wanted any agency to look twice at her, she’d have to lose a significant amount of weight. She’s what? Between 130 and 140 pounds?”

Renly did the maths in his head, laughing slightly to himself to see that Loras worked in pounds rather than stone. He’d evidently spent a little bit too much time on the other side of the Atlantic. “That’s somewhere between nine and ten stone right?” As far as he was concerned, that sounded a healthy weight for someone of her height.

Loras shrugged. “I suck at maths. But yeah between nine and ten stone sounds about right.”

“Then yeah, she’s probably around that. I know that when she was last on her diet she wanted to be under nine and a half stone.” Sansa was one of those girls who followed each and every fad diet that came along. One week it was the Atkins diet, then the Dukan diet, then one where she only drank smoothies and raw fruit and vegetables. She never kept any of them up for long and within a week, Renly would always find her stealing the Kit Kats out of his drawer to snack on, something she would later deny.

“Exactly,” Loras said, lowering his face to kiss him. “Well I’m a guy, and I’m told to hover around 140. Which is ten stone and probably not much more than Sansa weighs. She’d be told she needs to lose fifteen pounds, _at least_.” He laughed, suddenly amused. “Or to gain fifteen pounds and be a plus sized model.”

“God she’d be horrified,” Renly whispered, shaking his head and imagining how embarrassed Sansa would be to hear that. He wasn’t surprised though to hear that Loras didn’t weigh much more than she did. Lying on top of him like this, his pelvis was more than a little sharp, digging into Renly uncomfortably, and gently he rolled Loras off him and tucked him into his side. He still felt a little awkward there, and his hips still stuck into Renly's sides, but it was a little better.

Loras shrugged as soon as he was comfortable. “It’s how the industry works I’m afraid. She’s what? A size 6?”

Renly frowned. “Huh?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “A UK size 10 then.”

“Yeah,” Renly had been shopping with Sansa more times than he could count and usually, it was his job to walk back and forth between the changing rooms with different sizes for her.

“Well it’s not the nineties anymore and heroin chic is out so she could get away being a UK size 6 nowadays rather than a 4 which is that controversial size zero. She seemed very very pretty, but that’s still two dress sizes she’d have to drop.” He laughed and pushed his hair off his face. “So tell her to stick with the acting and singing then, unless she fancies being on a diet for the next ten years.”

Renly sighed, even though Loras' words couldn't possibly be surprising for anyone who knew anything about high fashion. “Is the industry still not very pleasant yet then?”

“It’s better than it was,” Loras laughed. “And they’ve got better at hiding it. It’s not so bad at the top because when you’ve made it big, you’ve got selling power even if you don't fit the mould exactly. Take me for example. I started off as a runway model, and we’re usually super tall and skinny. Now _technically_ , I’m too skinny to be a commercial male model, to sell aftershaves and jeans and underwear and all that sort of stuff. But because I’m a big name, I can do that sort of stuff if I like even though they want you to be seriously ripped for it.”

“Like me?” Renly grinned, winking.

Loras rolled his eyes, though he did run his hands appreciatively over Renly's chest. “You wish.” His tone was disdainful, but he was smiling though and he tilted his face towards Renly’s, clearly begging for a kiss. “Well anyway,” he said once he’d got what he wanted. “It’s the same for girls. You have to be pretty tiny to get signed to any agency worth its salt, but once you make it big, you get to be a little heavier and have everyone applaud the fashion industry for being _healthy_." He made quotation marks in the air. "Which is not the case at all."

“So do you still see the super skinny anorexic girls then?”

Loras laughed. “Yep, all the time. Less than I’m sure you used to, but yeah. The tricks go on and on. Diet pills are all the rage nowadays, laxatives too, and I’ve seen girls at shows sit down and eat _tissue paper_ to feel full, or cotton wool that they've soaked in fruit juice. It's not as glamorous as everyone thinks it is. ”

Renly grimaced, chewing on his tongue as he wondered what tissue paper tasted like. “What about you then?”

“Me?” Loras laughed, though the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What makes you think I do anything? I'm not even technically underweight. I have a BMI of 18.5, I'll have you know.”

Renly rolled his eyes and poked Loras in the side with a finger. “There is not an ounce of fat on you. And I’ve seen you. You eat like a fifth of what I eat.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “That’s because you eat like a pig Renly,” he said very evenly. "A few days ago, I came home and you'd ordered in Pizza Hut. I may have a skewed view of what's normal, but even you can't claim that it's normal to eat two larges with stuffed crust all by yourself."

Renly grinned. “Guilty as charged, but come on, you are like a stick.” He put a hand on each of Loras’ hips to demonstrate his point. “Now confess. What’s your secret?”

Loras rolled his eyes. He evidently wasn’t comfortable with the conversation and Renly could see him withdrawing into his shell second by second, putting that haughtiness back up which he seemed to use to keep others out. He evidently was a little affronted by Renly’s suggestion that he was a little too skinny. “I guess I haven’t had a piece of cake for six years,” he admitted stiffly. “Does that count?”

Renly stared at him in amused surprise. “What about chocolate?” he asked. When he thought about it now, he supposed that he’d never really seen Loras tuck into any dessert of any kind. He guessed that he ought not to be surprised. He didn’t think he’d met anyone as disciplined as Loras. He imagined that once Loras set his mind to something, that was it; there was no going back. If an agent told him that he needed to hover around 140 pounds, then that was exactly what Loras was going to do.

“No chocolate either,” Loras admitted. “I’ve kind of forgotten what it tastes like actually.”

That was sad to hear and grinning, Renlt leant over to open one of his drawers. He rooted through it for some chocolate, seizing one of the Kit Kats that Sansa hadn’t yet found. He presented it to Loras with a flourish. “Will you eat it?”he asked. "For me?"

Loras rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated with him. “If you want me to.” He snapped it cleanly in half and ate both fingers. “See,” he said dryly. “Now, enough making fun of me for my lack of expertise with desserts. What did Sansa think of me?”

“She thought you were rather lovely,” Renly told him and he was pleased to see that that softened Loras immediately as flattery always did. “But apparently a little more down to earth than she was expecting. Just as terrifyingly perfect looking, but slightly more normal.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “What did she expect? Me to go around calling everything easy and breezy and beautiful?”

“Quite possibly,” Renly conceded with a laugh. “I guess she thought you’d be all dressed up and striking poses all over the place even at home.”

Loras smirked and pushed his hair back off his face. “I can do that if you want me to. I’m sure I’ve got some suitable clothes here that I can parade around in for you.”

Renly smiled and slid one hand up the old t-shirt of his that Loras was favouring today, smoothing it across Loras’ back. “Actually,” he grinned. “I was thinking about taking what little clothes you have on _off_.”

Smiling, Loras lifted his arms up for Renly to pull his t-shirt off. It was sweet, Renly thought. For all Loras’ arrogance, he so clearly enjoyed feeling wanted, and each time they slept together, his eyes would light up with such a warmth that Renly could almost not care in the slightest that he could be a little mediocre sometimes. Loras so clearly adored everything and anything they did together that it couldn’t not be endearing.

 

* * *

 

Sansa seemed not to have been satisfied with her brief introduction to Loras, and Renly was unsurprised when a mere few days later, she invited him to a casual Christmas meal that she was hosting that night. He was even less surprised when she spent almost a full half an hour at work during their lunch break emphasising that he most certainly had a plus one and that he shouldn’t be afraid to use it. He was, however, surprised when Loras agreed to go without a fuss.

“Are you sure you don’t mind coming?” Renly checked for the last time as he got dressed in front of his mirror. It was a Friday night and more often than not Loras always had some kind of event to be attending- an after party, or an awards show, or a film premier. This close to Christmas, he hadn't been holding any hope that Loras would find time to come with him to some silly dinner one of his friends was having at her flat. He'd been pleasantly surprised though. Loras seemed perfectly happy to accompany him, and he was even already dressed, lounging across Renly's bed as he waited. And this time, Renly reckoned Sansa would find that Loras lived up very well to her expectations. He was dressed as casually as aything, but still, he managed to look like he’d just stepped out of a page from Vogue. It was quite scary how effortless he made it seem, even though Renly liked to think that that was one of his own personal talents too.

Loras rolled his eyes. “I’ve told you I don’t mind coming three times now. I’ve made time for this, so shut it.”

Renly smiled. Loras seemed to have suddenly got a lot better at making time for him recently. It had been three weeks now since Loras had left London, which seemed like an impossible feat when Renly considered that when they’d first started dating, he had been lucky to be allocated a half an hour slot a week. “But _how_ have you made time?” he pressed, laughing.

Loras smiled lazily at him, hugging one of Renly's pillows to him as he rolled over onto his back, hanging his head off the edge off the bed to look up at him. “With a lot of being demanding and insisting that designers do their shoots here," he answered.

Renly grinned and brushed his clothes down for a final time. “I bet you’re popular.” It was no secret that time was money in the fashion industry.

“We’ve found compromises,” Loras said, and it was clear that that was all he was going to volunteer on the matter.

“Well I’m glad of that,” Renly laughed, bending down to give him a kiss. “And I promise you. No matter how bad it is, I'll make it up to you this evening."

Loras laughed. "I really like you Ren, I _want_ to meet your friends."

Renly smiled. "You might not really like me after this though." From what Sansa had told him, he imagined it was going to be a very strange group of people.

Loras shrugged. “I imagine I'll always really like you.”

It was no declaration of love, but Renly grinned at his words all the same. He rather liked the way that Loras seemed to be so upfront about how he felt. As difficult as Sansa would find it to believe it, there were never any games with Loras; he hadn't even particularly played hard to get. Rather, what you saw was always what you got.

 

* * *

 

They took a cab to Sansa’s and Sansa herself opened the door. She looked beautiful, well put together and stylish, but Renly had to sigh at how hard she’d evidently tried tonight. He didn’t recognise anything she was wearing, which was unusual considering that he saw her every day, and it was clear to him that she’d gone out and bought everything especially for the occasion, from the necklace around her neck to the very high shoes that she was tottering about in. It was a desperate bid to impress, and for her sake, Renly rather hoped that Loras didn't pick up on the desperation.

She kept her composure better this time though and she only swooned slightly when Loras followed Renly’s lead and gave her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. It was evidently a fairytale come true for her, but she held it together like the lady she always did her best to be, smiling graciously at them like the perfect hostess as she led them to the table.

Everyone else was already sat down, and as they sat down, Renly thought Jeyne Poole about to collapse as her eyes fell upon Loras. She’d evidently been told that he was to be in attendance but Renly didn’t reckon that she’d believed it until she saw it for herself. She was even worse than Sansa had been that first time, and immediately she began gushing about how surreal it all was to Loras, getting out a notebook she'd quite clearly brought specially with her for him to give her his autograph.

Brienne, on the other hand, looked like she would rather be anywhere else. Once Jeyne Poole had backed off a little, she solemnly she reached out her hand for Loras to shake. She looked like a particularly ugly deer caught in the headlights tonight, and Renly reckoned that she probably knew that Sansa was secretly a little embarrassed to have her at her table. As if in anticipation of that, she’d made more effort than she usually did with her appearance and she had worn the only dress that Renly knew she owned- a shapeless blue sack with long sleeves that hid her chunky arms. And without Jaime at her side, she looked even more ill-at-ease than she usually did.

Gendry and Arya sat between Brienne and Loras, and Renly really did have to think that it was the most mismatched group that Sansa could possibly have got together. Sansa had outdone truly herself though despite that. It had been billed as a casual dinner, but the table was laid out beautifully, with flowers and candles. She'd even used her best china, and that was always a risk when Arya, Gendry and Brienne were in attendance. Between the three of them, it would be a miracle if they got through the whole dinner without someone smashing something.

Sansa took her seat then, and very delicately, she began pouring tea out of her floral porcelain teapot for anyone who wanted it, whilst Jeyne Poole filled the wine glasses. They were two fully grown women, and yet Renly still had to think that they looked like two little girls playing at playing hostesses.

Arya couldn't have looked any different, and in her torn and creased shirt, she looked even scruffier than Brienne usually did. "So," she said bluntly, turning to Loras. "Who are you again?"

"I'm Renly's boyfriend," Loras told her equally as bluntly, an eyebrow raised disdainfully as Sansa promptly turned a bright shade of red across the table. "Who are you?"

"I'm Arya,” she said. She evidently hadn't noticed her sister's expression, or perhaps, and this was quite possible, she simply didn't care. She gestured to her right. “And this is Gendry."

Duly, Loras shifted to greet the man on Arya’s other side. He took one glance and did a double take. Slowly, he looked from Gendry to Renly and then back again. “Huh?”

Renly grinned, amused by the confusion splashed across Loras' handsome face. "Deja vu Loras?"

"Just a little bit," Loras admitted. He looked again. "Is this one of your brothers then Ren?"

"Nah, we _assume_ that Gendry here is one of my nephews." Robert had never been any good at keeping track of the many children he’d fathered over the years. He doled out child support when asked and that was the end of it. He had no time to mess about getting paternity tests, and neither was it in his nature to doubt a woman at her word. If she claimed a boy as his son, then he was happy enough to accept that, much to the chagrin of Cersei.

"So what do you do Loras?" Gendry asked once Sansa had given him the evil eye. That evidently wasn't the question she'd been hoping he'd ask though and Renly was surprised that the porcelain handle of her precious teapot hadn’t snapped off with how tightly she was gripping it. He almost expected the entire teapot to shatter.

Loras didn't look too impressed with the question either but he did deign to answer. "I'm a model,” he said stiffly.

Arya snorted and did a mocking pose, putting both her hands above her head like a ballerina. "Like that kind of model?"

Loras shrugged. "Not quite like that, but yeah, I guess." He took a very deep breath and Renly could see that he was using every ounce of self control that he possessed. "So what do you do Gendry and Arya?"

"Us?” Gendry said gruffly. "We work in a garage down in Brixton. Fix motorbikes mainly."

Loras nodded politely, and surprisingly, Arya seemed to pick up on the fact that he had little to no interest in motorbikes.

"Sometimes though," she told him almost proudly, as if she was sure she'd just stumbled upon something that was sure to interest the courteous but icy man next to her. "Sometimes, when Mott lets them, these stupid girls come in and pose with the cars and stuff for their stupid naked calendars. And this year, some guys are coming to do it too. You should definitely come and join them. I'm sure Gendry wouldn't mind asking Mott for you."

Renly sighed and put his head in his hands as Gendry nodded and Loras looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. This was going to be a very very long dinner.


	9. Chapter 9

It _was_ a long dinner, and they’d only reached the main course by the time that Loras became restless beside him, shifting in his seat like a child that wouldn't stay put. Indeed, as soon as he’d finished the meagre portion of food that he’d served himself, he evidently made to stand up.

“Where you off to?” Renly laughed under his breath, hoping that Sansa hadn't noticed her star guest's attempt to escape.

“Cigarette,” Loras told him bluntly.

Renly rolled his eyes, wondering why he’d bothered asking. Wherever they went, Loras always flitted back and forth like a butterfly in pursuit of his beloved cigarettes. Renly had no idea how he coped on long haul flights, but then again, he supposed that it were quite possible that the no smoking rule was allowed to be bent when you were as rich and famous as Loras was. Renly, however, didn't particularly give a toss about how rich and famous Loras was right now. He was being incredibly rude to Sansa by leaving to smoke, and it irritated Renly beyond belief.

“Come on,” he protested under his breath. “We’ve been here like one hour, can’t you last till we leave?”

Loras frowned but he stayed put at Renly's command. It seemed, though, that his willingness to be polite was only fleeting, and it was little more than another ten minutes before he made to rise again. This time, he was only placated with a warm hand on his thigh and Renly’s best winning smile. The third time, however, he seemed past persuasion, and he rose properly, slapping Renly’s hand off his thigh and ignoring Renly’s attempts to get him to stay put.

“If you want something that sits and stays on demand, I suggest you get a dog,” he hissed vehemently in Renly’s ear as he stalked out.

Renly cringed as everyone turned to watch Loras leave. He was quite aware that Loras' temper was as easy to set off as a ticking time bomb, but he'd have preferred it if Sansa's guests had remained blithely unaware of that. 

“What’s got his goat?” Gendry asked, cocking his head and rubbing his stubble.

“Maybe he doesn’t like this rubbish dinner party,” Arya supplied helpfully. She looked at Sansa hopefully. “Does this mean we can leave too now?”

Sansa ignored her. “Is he all right?” she asked, her cheeks burning red. “Does he not want to be here?”

In all truth, Renly wasn't sure of the answer to that. Loras had been insistent that he wanted to come, and yet now that he was in one of his frequent sulks, it was impossible to say. “He’ll be back in five,” he laughed. “And no he does, Sansa, he’s just a nicotine addict who’s very prone to mood swings.”

“So why are you dating this guy again?” Arya asked bluntly. “If he smokes like a chimney and is rubbish in bed?”

Renly just glared at her. Loras was in a mood with him as it was, but there would truly be no going back if Loras found out that he’d said that about him. “Just shush,” he insisted. “And that’s not what I said anyway.”

Arya rolled her eyes and banged her knife and fork irritably on the table. “Fine,” she said. “But don’t lie. You definitely implied that.”

Renly just grinned at her. She was right, but as a lawyer, he knew best of all that there was a huge difference between what one said and what one implied. That said, he didn’t doubt though that Loras would resent the implication as much as any outright accusation. He'd be embarrassed and humiliated, and Renly didn't think any amount of soothing words and gentle caresses would heal his ruined pride.

Loras was back in ten minutes and perhaps the break had truly been what he needed, for he seemed to have forgotten his irritation at Renly completely. He was the perfect guest, and he chatted with Sansa with renewed vigour, even indulging Jeyne in signing autographs for one of her friends and attempting to engage Brienne in conversation which Renly knew to be like drawing blood out of a stone. Perhaps he knew that he’d embarrassed Renly a little, but regardless, he made more of an effort than he had done all night.  

All the same, Renly was glad when they could leave.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Renly laughed as he hailed a cab, not even bothering to ask if Loras would be coming home with him or not and thinking he would do best to simply ignore their little argument. “I know it can’t have been much fun, especially with Jeyne and Sansa fawning over you so desperately."  
  
Loras shrugged as he slid onto the back seat of the taxi with practised elegance. "The guys were worse. They didn't say anything at all."

"Guys?" Renly questioned as he followed suit. "There was only Gendry," 

Loras frowned. “What about Brian?”

“Who’s Brian?”

“You know, blond, big guy? Sitting opposite me?”

Renly cringed as he grasped who Loras was talking about. “You mean Brienne,” he sighed. “She's a girl. She was wearing a dress for god’s sake. Please tell me you didn’t call her Brian all the way through the meal?”

Loras shrugged, and whilst most people would have been mortified, he didn’t seem too bothered. “I didn’t notice the dress,” he said coolly. “And how was I supposed to catch her name properly when she mumbles every word she says?”

Renly just sighed and ran a hand wearily through his hair. “I guess, and she does look very manly. But she’ll be so embarrassed if she realised.” He imagined that Brienne, always extremely sensitive to what everyone thought of her unsatisfactory appearance, would definitely have noticed. 

Loras shrugged though. “I dare say she’ll live,” he said shortly, a little callously in Renly's opinion.

“You’re so cruel,” Renly laughed in exasperation. “I dare say you’ve never had a nasty word said to you in your life.”

“Do you?” Loras asked dryly. “Well perhaps not to my face, but there are people who get _paid_ to rip me apart. They unravel my life string by string until they've found something scandalous, something that will draw in readers. I bet Brian can't say that, can she?"

“Fair,” Renly admitted, not even bothering to correct him on Brienne's name. “What about the fact that you can’t go two hours without a cigarette then?" he teased, even though he knew that it might land him in trouble. "Would that draw in readers?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start again,” He gave Renly a nudge across the back seat, and whilst it was playful, Renly didn't think he'd appreciated the jibe one little bit.

 

* * *

 

The weeks slipped by, Christmas came and went, and slowly, December turned into January. Excepting one short week where he'd gone home, Loras had barely left, and Renly found himself getting more and more used to having him around his flat. He even got used to the fact that Loras being around meant the paparazzi being around too, for where Loras went, they surely followed, hounding him like dogs after a elusive fox. And whilst Renly had never had any desire to before, it felt somehow strange just knowing that now, he just simply couldn't leave the house without looking in a mirror first, unless he wanted the Sun to run a story about how distinctively unattractive Loras Tyrell's boyfriend had looked as he popped to the shops. It was a strange feeling being constantly watched, but Renly found it felt stranger still when Loras _wasn't_  around and never before did Renly think he'd had a boyfriend in whose absence it felt odd.

Indeed, as Renly came home from work that evening, trudging miserably through the slush that everyone on the news kept calling snow and hoping the paparazzi wouldn't choose this moment to spring themselves upon him, he found himself warmed by the thought that Loras most likely would be waiting for him inside, the heating turned up on full and watching out of the window for him. 

He was not disappointed, and once he and Loras had gone through the necessary ritual of asking each other about their day, in which Loras would always casually describe his dalliances with A list designers and Renly would attempt to make Robert's new office affair sound interesting, it appeared that Loras too had been thinking about how much time they spent together.

"Renly?" Loras asked as Renly put the kettle on. "How would you feel if I brought a bit more of my stuff here?  
  
Renly grinned. "God Loras," he laughed, pouring coffee out into two mugs for them, and trying to resist putting milk and sugar in Loras'. "You're not talking about moving in are you?"  
  
Loras rolled his eyes and pushed the sugar bowl further out of Renly's reach. "We both know that that effectively happened weeks ago."

"Did not," Renly protested. "You don't even pay a share of the rent."

Loras simply gave him an unimpressed glare. "Your opinion," he pressed, "on me bringing my stuff here."

In all honesty, Renly had no issue with it. He couldn't help teasing Loras a little though. "Well we'd certainly need a bigger wardrobe..." he said contemplatively, as if it were a large issue that would need lengthy discussion.

"Quite," Loras agreed tartly.

"But it would mean that I'd get half of my own clothes back right?" He tugged affectionately at Loras' sleeve, teasing a smile out of Loras. Even now, he was in one of Renly's shirts, and Renly reckoned that Loras was almost solely responsible for oversized jumpers being in this season.

"Probably," Loras admitted, though he looking longingly down at the shirt he was wearing, brushing it down a little affectionately. 

"Where even are your clothes?" Renly asked. This had been a mystery he'd often wondered the answer to. Loras hardly had any at his, but when he did wear his own clothes, Renly didn't think he'd ever seen him in the same garment twice. 

"In my hotel room," Loras said matter-of-factly, stirring his coffee even though there was no sugar to make dissolve.

"What hotel room?" Renly laughed. He'd always thought he was skilled at frittering away money, but Loras, he thought, made a fine art out of it. "Please don't tell me you've been paying through the nose for some fancy hotel room when you've been here with me?"  
  
Loras shrugged. "I never really thought of it like that. Where else was I going to keep all my things?"  
  
Renly just sighed. He had no idea how Loras had managed to live before he came along, never having any home and just flitting from one hotel room to another carelessly like a migrating bird. "Well you go get your stuff," he said decisively. "And then, you can stop being solely responsible for keeping the Ritz in business and start paying me rent." 

"All right," Loras grinned. "Well I've got a dinner up that way on Thursday that I'm contracted to make an appearance at, so I might stay there that night and sort it all out in the morning. And I can even backdate the rent if you would like."

"Sounds like a plan," Renly agreed with a smile. "Meanwhile, I'll start looking into getting an extra wardrobe." For whilst he'd been joking earlier, quite honestly, between himself and Loras, a good couple of extra wardrobes were in order.

 

* * *

 

As he had work the next day, Renly had turned Loras' offer to be his date to the dinner and spend the night in a very fancy hotel room with him. When Thursday night came, his bedroom cold and empty, Renly found himself regretting his decision. He missed Loras' warm body beside him, and his soft hair that he could play with. He even missed the way that Loras would constantly go to and fro from his bed, never able to settle. 

It didn't take him long to take a cab into the West End, and whilst Loras didn't seem to be picking up his phone, the clerk at the desk seemed happy enough to hand him an extra key to Loras' room. Evidently, the Ritz kept tabs on their client's personal lives, or else Renly had simply done a good enough job at convincing the clerk he was somebody important.

Loras' suite was on the top floor, and when Renly knocked, there was no answer. Renly supposed that he ought not to be surprised. It often occurred to him that Loras only came to bed for his sake, and no doubt now, now that he had nobody to come home to, Loras was out at some club somewhere, deep in the VIP section with his fellow models. Sighing, Renly supposed that the best he could do was to wait for him here, and feeling a little lonely still, he took the extra key he'd been given out of his pocket.

Renly frowned as the door swung open. At first he'd thought he'd mis-seen but no, when he did a double take, there was still a girl in Loras' bed, her hair streaming messily across the white satin of his pillow and thin lace straps peeking out from under the thick brunette strands. The covers were pulled up over her almost bare shoulders, and for the first time in a long time, Renly felt rage bubbling up underneath his skin as the Baratheon temper he usually sought to hide reared its ugly head.

The girl was asleep but Renly supposed his fight was not with her. His fight was with her partner in crime whose shadow he could just make out behind the thin gauze curtains that hid the door to the balcony. Renly wasted no time in stalking out to join him, unsure of quite how he was feeling. He'd been cheated on once before, but somehow, even despite the hoards of men and women that Loras had throwing themselves at him, he'd never expected it of Loras Tyrell.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Renly snapped at an unsuspecting Loras as soon as he'd got the glass door open.

Loras startled, and yet when he'd regained his composure, his brow merely furrowed. He either hadn't realised that he'd been caught in the act or he simply was that good a liar. " _What?_ " he breathed, folding his arms over his chest as if the accusation displeased him. 

"You expect me not to notice the girl in your bed?" Renly laughed bitterly.

Slowly, realisation dawned on Loras' face. "No Renly," he protested. "It's not wh-"

"-what it looks like?" Renly tried to finish for him. He was cut off too though, by the appearance of the girl herself. Evidently roused by the voices, she stood before them in the doorway, her feet bare and still in her rather skimpy pyjamas. Renly felt himself flush as he looked at her. She was as beautiful as Loras was, and noting her delicate frame and loose corkscrew curls, Renly had to think that Loras' choice of her reeked of narcissism.

Loras sighed very deeply. "Meet my date for the evening then," he said, leaning lazily back against the balcony, a curl flopping over his forehead. "This is Margaery, my _sister_."

"Your sister?" Renly felt himself flush further, in embarrassment now. He supposed he should have guessed. He'd never met the girl, but her name was always popping up in conversation. Loras didn't have a bad word to say about her and often, he'd see her name flash up on the screen of Loras' phone.

The girl laughed though, her curls bouncing merrily. "I think you actually do have some explaining to do Loras," she said meaningfully, winking. She turned to Renly then, her eyes still sparkling, "You must be Renly," she smiled. "Unless my brother actually _is_ playing the field a little more than he claims."

Renly gave a rather strained laugh. "I'm sorry for assuming-" he started to apologise. The words were barely out his mouth though before she'd waved them away.

"Don't be silly," she laughed, and then her eyes suddenly gleamed again with that mischief Renly often saw in Loras'. Indeed, standing beside him now, the pair of them looked like twins. "It's lovely to finally meet you Renly, but I'm sure, considering the hour, you two probably want to be left in peace." She raised her eyebrow suggestively and Renly was amazed to see a faint pink blush creep into Loras' cheeks as he rolled his eyes. 

In solidarity, Renly took Loras' hand which made Margaery laugh further. "I'd tell you to get a room," she said, her laugh a tinkling bell, "but as you're already in one, I shall desist and find myself somewhere else to sleep tonight."

Loras just rolled his eyes once more and all but pushed her out of the door. "That's enough Margaery," he growled, shutting the door on her smiling face. Once it was shut, he leant back heavily against it, as if he were afraid she might return.

"What did she mean when she said that you've got a lot of explaining to do?" Renly asked though, his curiosity bordering on suspicion.

Loras sighed deeply and pushed his curls off his face. "My sister's a stirrer," he explained.

"But...?" Renly prompted, crossing the room to lead Loras to bed.

"But I do probably have a few confessions to make."

The bed was so high that Renly wondered how the slip of the girl that Loras' sister was had climbed into it. It was comfy though, even if Renly's pillow smelled rather disconcertingly strongly of perfume. 

"So..?" he pressed as soon as it looked like Loras was comfortable.

Loras merely glared at him and continued faffing with the covers. "Well," he said reluctantly. "I've never told you so, but I guess you've gathered, from the numerous ex-girlfriends I have, that I'm bi?"

"Naturally," Renly laughed, thinking back to the glamorous Arianne that he'd met in Paris, as different from him as chalk was from cheese. 

"Well that's not strictly true," Loras admitted stiffly, fidgeting with the tassels on the pillows.

Renly frowned, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that all the relationships with hot women that your Sansa has no doubt read about in magazines are all made up. They're publicity stunts, agreements between me and some girl who needs to raise her profile."

That was a lot of information to take in and Renly cocked his head. "But why?" Renly asked. "It's not like _you_ need to raise your profile?"

"No," Loras admitted, "but I'm more marketable that way. Obviously, the clothes I model are for men, but it's women who want to read articles about me, who clamour to get my autograph. It's women even, who often buy the clothes I show, for their boyfriends, or their husbands, or their brothers even. I do very well by keeping women thinking that I'm interested in them."

That made sense, but Renly thought it an awful lot of trouble to go to. Then again, he supposed that if he were faced with the prospect of alienating his entire fanbase, he might pretend to be bisexual too. This way, he guessed, Loras got to appeal to the mainstream but at the same time, got to be hailed as an inspiring LGBT figure whose mere presence apparently defied homophobia. He should have known that Loras would be one to butter his bread on both sides, and he dreaded to think what Loras' actual gay fans would make of him if they knew the truth. Somehow, Renly thought that pretending to be interested in women when he wasn't wouldn't exactly earn him brownie points there; it didn't exactly send out the message that he was proud of his sexuality. 

"Would you have rather been straight?" Renly asked tentatively. "Or actually bi?"

Loras frowned. "No. But the whole pretending to like women wasn't really a decision I made."  
  
"Well who made it then?" Renly laughed, thinking that an odd thing to say.

"My publicist," Loras said as if it were obvious. "My management hired one for me when I was sixteen, and the first thing he said was that I needed a girlfriend." He clicked his fingers. "I wasn't out then, and I guess even I didn't really know back then whether I was actually gay or going through some phase, and so I let them find one for me. She was called Alayaya, and was one of those Disney teen stars who starts off all wholesome, and then goes off the rails a little bit. We dated for a few weeks and once we'd had a few pictures taken of us together at some awards ceremonies, we got to split up, and she got to give loads of interviews about how heartbroken she was over me, and how proud her mother was of her that she was still a virgin."

Renly had indeed heard of the girl Loras was talking of, but he'd never known she'd dated Loras. Sansa probably would have done, he thought. He did know enough about her, however, to think that Loras' description of her going a little _off the rails_ didn't do her justice. The last article he'd read about her had detailed how some Hollywood star had paid her to be his escort for the evening.

He said nothing though, and let Loras continue.

"I'd had several arranged relationships before I figured out my sexuality for myself," he said, "And after those, it just seemed easier to keep the act up and come out as bi, rather than admitting that all the previous stuff was simply made up."

That made sense too, and Renly supposed he'd never really given enough thought to how odd it must be growing up with a spotlight on you, especially if you were gay. He guessed he ought to give Loras credit for coming out at all.

"All right," he conceded. "Makes enough sense to me. Any more confessions?" he laughed though. "Now that we're at it."

Loras shrugged, pulling the covers up over his shoulders. "Loads," he admitted. "but I shall only offer you one." Reaching for his phone which lay on the bedside table, he first acknowledged the several missed calls he had from Renly before he started flicking through photos on it. He'd flicked a good long way back before he presented the screen to Renly.

"Me and Margaery when we were younger," he said.

Renly laughed as he stared at it. "You're not naturally blond," he said slowly, looking from one child to the other. Here, they actually did look like twins.

"Not in the slightest," Loras agreed with a small smile. "But I was told to dye my hair by my agency when I was first scouted, and since then bleach has been my friend."

Renly was starting to wonder then just quite how much control Loras' management had over him, but he supposed really that it was none of his business. As far as he was aware, Loras seemed pretty in control of his own life, regardless of how little he may have been when he was younger.

"I can live with that," Renly laughed. "You'd probably look lovely with any colour hair." He sighed and took Loras' hands under the covers. "But that's it right? Can I safely say now that's there's nothing else you ought to tell me?" It was late, and he felt a little weary of being informed that there was rather a lot he still didn't know about the guy who tomorrow, would officially be moving in with him.

Loras paused, sliding a hand into Renly's hair absent-mindedly as he bit down on his lower lip. He did that so often that Renly was a little surprised that he didn't have a permanent dimple in that perfect bottom lip of his. It always looked particularly enticing when Loras bit down on it, particularly plump, particularly full, and tonight was no exception as Renly found himself suddenly taken with the urge to kiss it. It was an urge that he couldn't resist, and as Renly leant across and joined Loras in biting it ever so softly, he felt Loras smile. Encouraged, he bit a little harder, still softly but evidently enough to spend a shiver of pain running down Loras' spine.

"What?" Renly breathed as Loras winced slightly. "What were you going to say?"  
  
Loras was silent for a few moments. "That I really like you," he eventually said, looking a little evasive and the tiniest bit embarrassed.

Renly grinned. "You liar," he hissed triumphantly, rolling over on top of him and nudging a knee between Loras' thighs. "That's not what you were going to say."  
  
Loras smiled too now, smugly. "No it wasn't," he agreed. "But then you bit me, and then I remembered that you accused me of cheating on you earlier."  
  
Renly pouted. "And you changed your mind?" he asked sadly.   
  
"No," Loras shook his head. "I just didn't think you deserved to be told right now."  
  
Renly just grinned. It was a confession that Renly didn't need to hear, for he thought it rather obvious how Loras felt about him, but it was one he very much _wanted_ to hear.

It didn't take long to him to extract it, and this time, pinned underneath him like he always was when they had sex and his hair fanned out across the pillows like a tangled skein of silk, he didn't seem to have any shame in admitting that he loved him. And as Rely repeated the words back to him, he didn't think he'd ever seen such joy as he did now upon Loras' face. It lit up his entire face as if from within, and Renly wondered whether Loras had ever been told that before.

Probably not, he decided, at least not by somebody who meant it, and with that in mind, he set to telling Loras again, whispering it softly in his ear.


	10. Chapter 10

Three new wardrobes later and Renly’s twenty-sixth birthday a month in the past, the last box of Loras’ clothes was unpacked and Loras was officially moved in.

Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen so many clothes and whilst Loras claimed even that he’d given more than half of his clothes away before bringing them, Renly refused to believe him. He thought that he himself had always been a champion at buying clothes he didn’t need, but this was ridiculous; even he refused to see why anyone needed fifty six pairs of jeans. On one hand, he simply couldn’t understand how Loras physically had time to wear so many clothes, but on the other, and this was a much stronger part of him, he found himself distinctly jealous of the rows and rows of gorgeous garments that Loras had to his name.

“Loras?” he laughed as he caressed a beautifully cut jacket that he’d never seen Loras wear, deciding to put his opinions into words. “How do you have time to wear all of this?”

“I don’t,” was Loras’ predictable response.

“That is such a shame,” Renly sighed as he turned his attention longingly now to a Dior shirt that he remembered seeing on the catwalk in autumn.

Loras laughed when he caught him looking. “I’d say you could borrow anything you wanted,” he said, “but…”

“But I wouldn’t fit in any of it?” Renly finished for him with a laugh. He was under no allusions as to how close he would get to fitting into any of Loras’ clothes. He might manage to get an arm into the leg of Loras’ jeans or maybe his wrist into one of Loras’ sleeves. Attempting might well have some comedic value but Renly imagined he’d do better to stick with his own clothes.

Loras just shrugged and gave him a nonchalant smile. “And here,” he said, pushing something into Renly’s hands as he closed the door of the last wardrobe.

Renly looked down at the piece of sturdy paper in his hands, resisting the urge to laugh. It was a cheque, and aside from his name and Loras’ signature, it was blank.

“Loras dear?” he asked sweetly. “How much money do you have in your current account?”

Loras shrugged. “I’ve no idea, and the next question you ask that ends with _dear_ I shan’t deign to answer.”

Renly just grinned at him. For all that Loras tended to be extraordinarily clingy in bed, he knew how much Loras hated terms of endearment, but it was the knowledge of that that meant he could just never help himself. “Yes love,” he smiled.

Loras raised an eyebrow but he didn’t give Renly the satisfaction of any further reaction.

“Seriously though,” Renly argued. “How can you not know how much money you have in your account?”

Loras shrugged and sat down on the windowsill, straightening his hair as he did so, for he knew that there was a fair chance that a photographer on the street down below might attempt to take a picture of him there. “My brother manages all my finances,” he explained. “I just let him get on with it. Why?”

“Because you’ve just given me a blank cheque.”

“So?” Loras retorted. “I have no idea how much rent you pay for this flat. You can just write it on there for me. I’ve been around since like October, so just add it all up. You’re a Cambridge graduate, I’m sure you can manage it.”

Renly laughed in disbelief. “Yes, and I’ll do that. But do you realise how incredibly stupid it is to give a blank cheque to anyone?”

Loras shrugged, bringing his knees up onto the thin ledge too. “I trust you.”

“I know you do,” Renly laughed, resisting the urge to scoop him up off the windowsill. “But it would be so easy for me to just write millions on this cheque.”

“But you’re not going to Ren, so it’s irrelevant.”

“But I could,” Renly insisted. “How do you know that I won’t?”

Loras sighed heavily and turned to him. “The same way that I know you’re not about to go give and give a candid interview to Glamour magazine tomorrow and have them hand you a hefty cheque for your time.”

Renly shrugged. “I suppose.” He’d never really thought about that. He supposed that there was truth in Loras’ words; he easily could do that. He had more than enough dirt on him. He imagined that any magazine would jump at hearing all the things he could have to say about his and Loras’ sex life. It was an idea that horrified him though, and Renly supposed he ought to feel flattered that Loras evidently didn’t feel threatened by the power Renly had never realised he had.

Sighing, he turned to pick up a pen, adding up in his head how much four and a half month’s rent would come to. As he went to write the figure in though, Renly spotted something that made him laugh, and decisively, he added an extra zero onto the end, thinking he might as well teach Loras a lesson as he turned what Renly thought was already a far too sizeable figure that he paid for renting his one bedroom flat into one that was astronomical.

Renly presented it to him with a flourish. “Well you’re wrong,” Renly laughed. “I added a lot of money to it.”

“Did you?” Loras asked, stifling a yawn. “Well, I’d be lying if I told you I particularly cared, even if it does give Willas a heart attack when he gets the bank statement.”

Renly rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You need to be careful,” he insisted. He was frivolous, but Loras took it to new extremes. “Anyway though, you’ll have to write me another one.”

“Why?” Loras retaliated. “Because of the extra money? Renly, I really don’t care.”

“No Loras,” Renly smiled sweetly, resisting the urge to tack _dear_ onto the end. “It’s because you’ve spelt my name wrong.”

Loras span round, sliding of the windowsill. “I haven’t,” he protested, coming to peer over his shoulder. “That’s how your name’s spelt.” He paused. “Isn’t it?”

“Nope,” Renly grinned, tracing a finger over the last part of his surname where Loras had put an _i_ instead of an _e_. “There is definitely no _i_ in my last name.” He bent to give a rather scowling Loras a kiss. “But as long as you don’t replace the _y_ in my first name with an _i_ , I'm pretty confident we can move past this.” 

Loras didn't laugh. He only squirmed from his grip. “I’ve never been good at spelling,” he admitted.

“I’d never have guessed.” Renly said dryly, reeling him back in. “Tell me, how many GCSEs do you have Loras?” He'd met many people with terrible spelling, but Loras, he thought, his spelling was the cherry on top of an illiterate cake.

Loras gave him an ill-tempered scowl. “None,” he said.

“None?” Renly laughed in disbelief, though vaguely, that rang a bell. “How is that physically possible? Even famous kids have to sit exams right?”

“Sure,” Loras shrugged. “I sat fifteen of them. But nobody could force me to pick up the pen.”

“But _why?_ ”

Loras merely shrugged again. “I was sixteen, already a millionaire several times over, and quite honestly, I didn’t give a fuck.”

“Suit yourself,” Renly laughed. He supposed he couldn’t argue with the fact that Loras had managed to make a lot more money than he had. He pulled Loras towards him “Now,” he said, backing Loras slyly up against the wall until he’d pinned him there with his weight. “Want a celebratory shag?”

“What are we celebrating?” Loras breathed even as he tilted his head back to give Renly better access to his neck.

“Why, you moving in of course.”

“Seems a bit tenuous,” Loras whispered. “I’ve been here months.”

Renly shrugged, grinning widely at him. “Sure it’s tenuous, but the offer’s still there.” He slid a hand up Loras’ side, fingers teasing against his skin through the thin fabric.

Loras smiled. “Yeah all right,” he laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras had only been officially moved in for a month and a half when Renly came home to find a bouncing enthusiastic twenty one year-old that Renly barely recognised. It was certainly the most excited he’d ever seen Loras and it was a little disconcerting, Renly found, for usually, Loras Tyrell didn’t do excited. He did nonchalant, unimpressed and disdainful very well, but he was far too cool for excited.

Today, however, Loras seemed willing to make an exception. “Look Ren,” he smiled as soon as Renly had come in the door. “I got a present today that I think you shall love.”

Renly had barely had time to shrug off his jacket before he was being led back down the stairs.

“Your present is outside?” he queried.

Loras nodded, and opening the door, he dragged Renly out onto the street. He slowed down as soon as they were out though, and Renly guessed that even Loras’ newly-found enthusiasm wasn’t enough to make him willing to see himself in tomorrow’s papers bouncing around like a puppy.

Loras had led Renly round the corner to a couple of parking bays whose prices were ludicrously expensive before he stopped, and Renly had to marvel indeed as he saw what Loras was talking about.

In the street was parked a brilliantly red car and fond of anything flashy, Renly didn’t need to be told that it was a Lamborghini. It was beautiful, and longingly, Renly reached out to touch its shiny red bonnet.

“But you model clothes not cars,” Renly laughed.

“Yes, but Lamborghini, and please don’t ask me to spell that Ren, they’re doing a joint venture with Valentino and look what turned up for me.”

“But why?” Renly spluttered. “I thought you were getting paid ridiculous sums for your work with Valentino anyway?” Indeed, he'd read countless articles that detailed the ridiculous amounts Loras was rumoured to get paid. 

Loras just laughed though. “Don’t you worry yourself over how much I get paid. They’re hoping that I’ll drive it around you see, preferably whilst waving a Valentino scarf or something from the windows as I cruise past the paparazzi. It’s just marketing really.”

“Smart,” Renly conceded. “I guess it’s win win for everyone.”

“Not really.” Loras laughed, leaning against the side of his new present with a carelessness that being very wealthy brought. “There’s one rather large flaw in their plan.”

“What?” Renly laughed.

“I can’t drive.”

Renly just stared at him. “You’re almost twenty two, a supermodel and you can’t drive?”

Loras shrugged. “I’ve never needed to.” He smiled. “Which is why I shall be giving this lovely shiny thing behind me to you.”

Renly couldn’t help himself; he merely laughed with the ludicrousness of it all. “But you can learn to drive,” he protested, even though his head was swimming with images of his colleagues faces if he ever braved the London traffic and drove to work in it. “I can even teach you if you like?”

He’d expected Loras to be enthusiastic, but he just rolled his shoulders indifferently. “Yeah,” he said, glancing a little wistfully at the car he was still leaning on. “I guess I could.”

“Then why don’t you?” Renly laughed.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Loras said. “You know how it is, I’m already so busy and I barely have time to see you as it is. And to be honest, I’m not really interested in learning.”

He sounded a little defensive and Renly really couldn’t understand why. “But it’s so pretty,” he protested. “Of course you want to drive it.”

“But I don’t,” Loras said shortly. “It’ll still be just as pretty if you drive it.”

“But look at it,” Renly laughed. “Don’t you want to get behind the wheel of her?”

Loras shrugged. “Not really,” he said, folding his arms and stepping away from the car.

“But Loras,” Renly insisted. “I think it would be good for you to learn.”

“I said no,” Loras repeated.

Renly wasn’t going to give up the argument so easily, and he pouted. “But it would make me really happy,” he teased.

He’d hit his mark and he bit back a grin as Loras’ resistance broke, his face clouding with doubt. “It would?” he asked.

“Of course it would,” Renly laughed.

“Fine,” Loras said. “I’ll think on it.”

“Great,” Renly grinned. “We can apply for your provisional licence now and it should come soon and then we can get started straight away.”

Loras did not look enthusiastic in the slightest.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly wondered whether he’d insisted a little too hard, for the next few days, Loras simply wasn’t himself. He had always been a little moody, but now he was almost unbearable to be around. He was irritable regardless of what Renly said or did, and he didn’t seem able to enjoy anything for more than a few minutes at a time; instead, he’d pace from room to room with the sort of agitation that Renly saw in Stannis when another one of Robert’s paternity tests came back positive.

By the end of the week, though, Renly couldn’t deny that he was beginning to be a little worried about him. Loras had swung the other way now, and where he had always been lively, willing to stay up late regardless of the fact that he’d managed to get no sleep the night before, for apparently, _if Margaret Thatcher could do it, so could he_ , now however, he seemed to have lost that spark altogether.

That evening, when he came home from work and found Loras in their bed despite it barely being past seven, he knew something was wrong. He’d never known Loras to be tired, not even after those, now rare, occasions when he flew to the states and he must have been suffering terribly with jet lag. Now though, he was curled up in bed with the lights off and Renly had to seriously wonder if he was ill.

Gingerly, he sat down on the edge of the bed, flicking the bedside table. “You all right?” he asked. Quite honestly, Loras didn’t look all right. He was in his pyjamas, his hair a tangled mess and a thin sheen of sweat across his handsome face, and truthfully, Renly had never seen him look worse.

Loras nodded stubbornly though. “Just tired,” he mumbled. “Didn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Why don’t you get some rest then?” Renly soothed, reaching out to stroke Loras’ forehead.

It was apparently no comfort to him, for he turned his face away. “Get some rest?” Loras repeated condescendingly. “What do you think I was trying to do before you barged in?”

Renly winced. For the past week, Loras had been irritable, but he hadn’t quite been as rude as that. Unusually, Renly found himself irritated himself; as if it wasn’t enough that he’d felt like he was walking on eggshells around Loras these past few days, now he’d just been spoken to as if he were some child that Loras couldn’t be bothered to put up with.

“Fine,” he said, rising sharply and not bothering to hide the distaste in his voice. “I’ll leave you in peace shall I?”

His tone must have been dismissive enough for as Renly was halfway to the door, Loras shook his head and shut his eyes as if the light pained him.

“No,” he sighed wearily. “I didn’t mean that.”

“What did you mean then?” Renly asked.

“I don’t know?” Loras admitted. “And I’m sorry for being rude. Come join me will you?” He sounded so pitiful that Renly couldn’t help but forgive him, and dutifully he climbed into bed beside him as he was bid, opening his arms for Loras to come and lie between them. It was offer that Loras accepted, and slowly, he shifted closer to him, leaning his head against Renly’s shoulder and shutting his eyes.

“Come on,” Renly sighed. “Tell me what the matter is?”

“Nothing,” Loras breathed almost inaudibly. He seemed exhausted and Renly cradled him close.

“But you’re not yourself Loras,” Renly whispered into his tangled curls. “Really you’re not.”

Loras shrugged against him. “I’m fine, just stressed maybe.”

“This isn’t stress,” Renly protested.

Loras just shrugged once more and Renly knew better than to push the matter further. It seemed clear to him that Loras was ill, but it was also crystally clear to him that Loras would loath to admit that he was sick.

Renly decided to humour him. “You know what’s good for stress?” he teased.

“Sex?” Loras ventured, and Renly had to chuckle at how well Loras knew him.

“Yeah probably,” Renly laughed, squeezing him very tightly even though Loras always felt like he was going to snap in half when he did that. “But that’s not what I was going to say.”

“What were you going to say?” Loras repeated wearily, and regardless of how unpleasant he’d been for the past week, Renly had to give him a little credit for indulging him now, even if it was half-hearted.

“Chocolate of course,” he grinned. “I have my Kit-Kat stash if you’re interested.” He gestured enthusiastically to his top drawer.

He was surprised though when Loras nodded, reaching out for one and unwrapping it when Renly retrieved one for him.

He finished it rather quickly and his next question outright astonished Renly.

“Can I have another one?” he whispered.

“Wow,” Renly laughed in disbelief as he reached over to retrieve a second one. “Something actually is wrong with you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Loras murmured, chucking the bright red and white wrapper onto the bedside table with a feeble toss.

“All the same,” Renly insisted. “I’m going to take a week off work and you’re going to rest for a few days.” That, he supposed was one of the benefits of working for one’s brother; he could take time off whenever he liked, even if Stannis did judge silently from his moral high ground, for never, not even once, had Renly seen Stannis take a single day off.

Loras shook his head though. “Can’t,” he said as he burrowed back into Renly’s chest. “I’ve got a shoot tomorrow.”

Renly cocked his head and looked down at him. His face was flushed and there were dark circles under his eyes and Renly thought that surely Loras had to be having him on. “You can’t be serious,” he laughed, patting his hair softly. “You’re sick Loras.”

Loras shrugged. “I’ll cope.”

“But will anyone even want to shoot you like this?”

Loras shrugged again. “They’ll just airbrush me a lot.” He pulled the covers up to his neck. “But I’ll admit, I’m not looking forward to it.”

Renly just nodded, and rested his head against the top of Loras’. They lay there for a few minutes, Loras chasing sleep that both of them knew he probably wouldn’t get.

It was Loras who spoke again first, raising his face to Renly’s. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a nuisance this week.”

“It’s all right,” Renly soothed, pushing his hair back off his face for him.

Loras merely pushed himself closer. “You still love me don’t you?” he asked without looking at him, pressing his face into Renly’s shirt.

“Course I do,” Renly laughed. Loras never ceased to amaze him in some ways, and this was one of them. On the one hand, he was so cocky, arrogant and haughty even, but on the other, he could be almost paranoid when it came to things like this. Renly supposed that it stemmed from being surrounded by managers and publicists all the time, none of whom cared any more about him than what their salary was worth, but still, Renly found it a little disconcerting.

“You sure?” Loras mumbled almost inaudibly.

“Yeah,” Renly laughed, wondering if Loras had pushed himself so close that he now had a large swath of cotton shirt in his mouth. He guided Loras’ chin up with a gentle hand. “Loras,” he breathed. “I shall always love you. No matter what.”

Loras didn’t seem convinced. “I shall too, but Renly, that’s an awfully grand statement to make.”

“Yeah,” Renly agreed, tucking one of Loras’ rogue curls behind his ear. “It is. But I’m not stupid. I know when it feels right.”

Loras gave him the first smile of the evening then, and all in all Renly was a little stunned by the change in Loras at his words. He visibly relaxed and the tension seeped out of his shoulders, and even though he was still inarguably on the very slim side, his elbows didn’t seem to dig into Renly’s chest so much.

“It does feel right doesn’t it?” Loras said quietly. 

“It does,” Renly agreed.


	11. Chapter 11

"Come on," Renly laughed as he picked Sansa up off the photocopying machine, groaning with faked effort as he lowered her to the ground. "My brother has given his orders," he laughed, " and so you're not going anywhere until you've helped me fill in all this paperwork, even if it is midnight by that point." As if to illustrate his point, holding Sansa with one hand, he took his phone out of his pocket and put it on silent before grabbing Sansa's too, removing the illustrious lure of Facebook from within her grasp, a necessity if they were to get anything done tonight.

Sansa sighed, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he set her down, and Renly was tempted to join her in her despair. Yet another woman had come crawling out of the woodwork to claim that her child had been fathered by Robert, a claim that Renly had no doubt as to the truth of, for he'd only needed to take one look at the photo of this _Barra_   _Waters_  to see that she was quite clearly Robert's daughter. Still, procedure was there to be followed, and so Stannis had duly overseen the paternity tests as usual before passing the paperwork to Renly to complete, a very long process seeing as Barra was now a girl of seven whose mother was keen to pursue an out of court settlement for retroactive child support. 

"So," Renly laughed as he skim-read the papers in front of him. "Tell me all about this entirely _unsuitable_ man you've started seeing. Arya tells me he's one of Joffrey's bodyguards, that he's hung like a horse and that he's got a tattooed cock."

"That is not true!" Sansa gushed, turning bright red. "He does not have a tattoo there. Arya is a liar."

"So you've seen it already then?" Renly smiled, raising an eyebrow. "So? Does it dent a shire horse's ego? Or not?"

Sansa's cheeks turned to roses. "It's not _that_ big," she whispered, putting her head in her hands in her embarrassment. 

"Shetland pony instead then?" Renly laughed, licking his finger as he turned the page. He couldn't help teasing her a little before he actually started questioning her choice of the man. Even allowing for Arya's exaggeration, the man sounded quite unsuitable for her: far too old, with a history of violence no less, and with close ties to Joffrey too, which seeing as he'd been Sansa's first disastrous boyfriend, was surely an idea that would end badly. 

Sansa just shook her head. "I don't answer crude questions like that," she said loftily, folding her dainty hands in her lap. "How would you feel if I started asking you about how Loras measures up down there?"

Renly grinned. "Loras?" he asked contemplatively. "Sizeable enough but considerably smaller than his ego if you're interested." 

Sansa shook her head obstinately, even though clearly, she was in fact interested. She must have been considerably embarrassed though, for she picked up one of the pages that had Barra Water's photo on and started filling out Robert's personal information for him. It was a well known fact that Sansa only even _contemplated_ working when she was trying to avoid garnering unwanted attention. She evidently knew that everybody would no doubt disapprove of her choice of Sandor Clegane, and he had to wonder if she'd perhaps already had this conversation with her father.

"So," he ventured. "You think this is a good idea do you? This man who's fifteen years older than you and who makes a living knocking in the faces of anyone who crosses my gentle and sweet nephew?"

"But it's so romantic," Sansa protested, twirling a lock of fiery red hair about her little finger as she stared into the distance. "He's so big and strong, he could toss me about like a feather if he liked, but he doesn't. He's so gentle. It's like Beauty and the Beast, Renly,"

Renly shrugged. "Because the beast is so ideal in that Sansa?" he laughed. "Or are you forgetting the part where he keeps Belle captive in a tower whilst he goes about ripping his lovely castle to shreds in frustration that he can't force the pretty smart girl to love him?"

Sansa didn't seem won over. "Loras Tyrell has changed you," she sighed. "You used to think that was romantic before he came along."  
  
Renly rolled his eyes. "Admitted, Loras isn't Disney's _biggest_ fan," he laughed mildly, "but that is irrelevant here. I _do_ think Beauty and the Beast is romantic, but as a fairytale. It's seriously creepy in real life. You need to learn to separate the two, Sansa. Sandor Clegane isn't going to turn into some handsome prince just because you lavish your affections on him."

Sansa pursed her lips, and Renly knew he'd upset her. She had that affronted look about her, as if she were a child whom Renly had just informed Santa Claus didn't exist. 

"Go on then," he relented, "Try and win me over. Tell me all about the wonderful qualities this Sandor has,"

"Well," she started to smile, and Renly knew even then that he was in for a very long night regardless of the paperwork.

 

* * *

 

Renly had been jesting with Sansa earlier about how late they would need to stay, but it seemed he'd spoken too soon. It was almost midnight by the time that the two of them took the tube home, both of them exhausted and with only the energy to curse his brother with every insult in their repertoire as they sank down onto the garishly patterned underground seats. Technically, as Robert's legal advisor, Renly supposed it _was_ his job to handle this sort of thing, but as far as he was concerned, if Robert was stupid enough to get a woman knocked up, then he should be willing to clear up his own messes. 

Weary as he was though, Renly was pleased to see that the kitchen light in his flat was still on, the comforting orange glow lighting up the rainy street below in a sure sign that Loras was evidently waiting up for him. That surprised him a little, for Loras was usually out on a Friday night, but he was nevertheless pleased. There was nothing better, Renly thought, than to come home out of the wind and the rain to somebody who'd been waiting for you, and whilst Loras' foul mood had continued into this week, Renly reckoned that nobody could possibly be in a bad mood on a Friday, not when the weekend stretched before you so cheerfully like it did. 

The flat was warm and the smell of cooking wafted out from the kitchen, making Renly grin to himself as he climbed the stairs. Loras had evidently cooked dinner for them, an unusual event in itself, and Renly hoped this meant that Loras was finally feeling a little better. It was certainly a good sign, he thought, even if Loras' cooking usually did leave rather a lot to be desired.

Indeed, as Renly walked into the kitchen, he could see that Loras had made something resembling a stir fry and it was still steaming on the stove. Loras had even done the washing up, which was a true miracle, Renly thought to himself, for Loras hadn't even seemed to know what washing up liquid was before he'd come along; he certainly hadn't known how to operate a dishwasher, though to his credit, he'd picked it up rather quickly. He'd laid the table too, a very expensive bottle of wine sat in between the plates, and Renly smiled at the effort Loras had evidently gone to.  Loras would never admit it but he was a romantic at heart, the fact that he clung to Renly so tightly each time they slept together surely evidence of that.

Loras was sat at the table facing away from him and when Renly bent to kiss him hello, he turned and Renly almost jumped back to see that he had a face like thunder. With the table laid so nicely, that had not been what Renly was expecting at all, and he frowned.

“Where have you been?” Loras turned on him viciously, running his hands though his hair in a way that suggested he'd been doing that for hours. “It’s past midnight, Renly! What fucking time do you call this?”

Renly just stared at him. Coming from the guy who often went out to after-parties and the like until six in the morning, he felt a little hard done by. “I’ve been at work,” he said truthfully. “Finishing up some stuff with Sansa.” He chanced a hesitant smile. "You know, Robert's orders and all that."

“Sure,” Loras retorted, and it was clear that he was more inclined to believe in ghosts than he was to believe what Renly had just told him. He got angrily to his feet, the chair scraping loudly against the tiled floor in protest. “ _Who is he?_ ” he demanded, his voice a low hiss that sent a shiver down Renly's spine as if Loras had tipped icy cold water down his spine.  

“What?” Renly choked out, taking a hasty step backwards. “I told you. I’ve been at work. I haven't been _seeing_ someone if that's what you're trying to imply.”

“Then why didn’t you phone?” he hissed. 

Renly looked at him in disbelief. “I never ask you where you are when you’re out till god knows when in the morning," he pointed out evenly. "I didn’t know I was required to phone you. Why didn’t _you_ phone _me_ if you were so bloody worried?”

“ _I did,_ ” Loras snapped. Pushing the chair back under the table with another angry clash of wood against floor, he turned away from Renly, pacing up and down the room and looking very likely to start tearing his hair out again, or else punch something, probably the latter. There was pure venom on his face and it was with more than a little fear that Renly checked his phone. Loras was wound up so tightly that Renly could see him snapping if he wasn't careful, lashing out like a taught string cut free.

Renly had eleven missed calls and at least fifteen texts, and only now did he remember putting it on silent. “Well I’m sorry,” he said as calmly as he could, thinking it all he could say. “I didn’t see them.” He'd never been accused of cheating before, and he wondered a little miserably whether this was his karma for jumping to conclusions upon finding Loras with his sister that one time. 

“Sure you didn’t,” Loras rounded on him bitterly, poison in his voice. “And I cooked dinner and everything. And now everything’s ruined. I should have known that it was far too convenient for you that I'm so often out. How long has it been going on Ren?”

Renly ignored the fury on his face and went to the stove. The dinner  _was_ ruined, but Renly would eat it regardless to try and placate him. “It’s not ruined,” he soothed. 

“Well it bloody well is now,” Loras snapped, and picking up a plate, he hurled it at the opposite wall with more force than Renly would have thought he had in him. It shattered with a loud smash and sent jagged pieces of china flying across the room. Instinctively, Renly stepped back behind the fridge, taken aback more than anything. He'd known Loras had a temper on him, but he wouldn't have thought that he'd lose it quite that quickly or go so far. He'd known too that Loras was prone to fits of jealousy, but this was the sort of behaviour he'd expect from someone with full-blown paranoia.

“ _Loras!_ ” he hissed. "What on earth was that for?"

“ _What?_ ” Loras spat back. “Don’t you dare tell me what I can or can't do when you’ve been out with some other man all evening.”  His fists were balled up so tightly that Renly truly did fear that he was about to punch him. It was more than clear that Loras wanted to, and Renly almost laughed from the irony of what he'd been telling Sansa about Sandor all evening.

“But-“ Renly began to argue. He was cut off by Loras picking up another plate, his eyes still flashing daggers. " _Don’t you dare_ ,” Renly warned, but he shouldn't have bothered. Reasoning with Loras right now was like reasoning with a madman and the plate slipped from Loras' hand as if in enraged defiance. It was the first of many, and Renly cowered pitifully behind the fridge as china shattered all about him, the sound of breaking glass accompanied by Loras' accusations. He’d never been frightened by any of his boyfriends, many of whom had been both bigger and stronger than Loras, but he was frightened now. There was a blind fury in Loras’ eyes that Renly didn’t know how to even begin to start fighting against.

“Loras,” he pleaded, “Please, just calm down.”

His answer was another piece of china meeting the wall, and Renly merely continued quivering behind the fridge. Loras didn’t stop with this one either and soon, the room was a mess of broken china. Renly didn’t bother to plead with him this time, and clenching his eyes tightly shut, he waited for Loras to stop. Surely, Renly thought desperately, the storm couldn't rage forever. Loras would have to calm down eventually.

He was right only in part. Loras stopped only when he had nothing left to smash, and when that arrived, he stormed angrily from the room, telling Renly to go and fuck whoever he’d been seeing tonight. And whilst he was only a slight man, the very walls shook as he crashed down the stairs. 

Renly stayed where he was even when Loras had left, sinking down to his knees and wondering what the hell he'd ever done to deserve this. He only ventured out when he heard the front door slam loudly.

His kitchen was a mess and yet Renly couldn’t find the strength to clear the jagged bits of plates from the floor. He merely skirted round as much as the debris as he could, biting back tears that he wasn't sure why he was crying. He halted at the top of the stairs, and miserably, he stared down at the front door after Loras. Loras had a key, but Renly did have a bolt on the door, and as shameful as it was to admit it, a large part of Renly was tempted to bolt Loras out, so that if he returned in that same temper, he wouldn't be able to get it to take it out on him. 

Dismally, Renly glanced out of the window. It was still raining, the wind and rain lashing at the glass, and Renly wasn't sure if he had the heart to shut Loras out in it. Looking back at the kitchen though, he made his mind up. Descending the stairs, he pulled both the heavy bolt and the chain across the door. He felt better for it.


	12. Chapter 12

Renly slept uneasily that night, ever conscious of the wide expanse of bed next to him where Loras ought to have been. It didn't make any sense, Renly thought. It wasn't as if he wasn’t _used_ to sleeping without Loras- often Loras would be away for days at a time at various shoots up and down the country- but somehow, even when half asleep, Renly’s body just seemed to know that tonight he ought to have been there, that tonight it was because they'd argued that he wasn't there. Indeed, every time he neared falling asleep, he seemed to become painfully aware of Loras' absence, and desperately, he'd shift further towards Loras' side of the bed in search of him, only to jolt awake as memories of broken china came flooding back.

It was late by the time that sleep took him and the refuge didn’t last long. The soft buzzing of his phone woke him at a little past four in the morning to inform him that he had a text. Renly groaned as he rolled over with the thought to fish his phone out from under his pillow. He knew before he even looked at the text that it would be from Loras, and part of him was tempted to simply ignore it and try to go back to sleep, the wasteland that was now his kitchen still fresh in his memory.

In defiance more than anything, he attempted sleep for another hour before giving in to what, ultimately he’d probably known he was always going to do. Fumbling for his phone and swiping his finger a little reluctantly across the screen, he winced as the bright light almost blinded him.

He’d been right to assume it was Loras who’d texted him, and he rubbed his eyes wearily as he read, not really sure how he should be feeling. 

 _I know you must be furious at me_ , it read, _and I don’t think I’ll be able to apologize enough times to tell you how sorry I am.  I never meant to lose my temper like that with you and I'm so sorry. I'm guessing that the bolt on the door means that you dont want me here at least for tonight, but if you do, I’m outside now if you want to talk about it. I’ll understand if you dont want to though and I can go to a hotel if you prefer?  xxx_

It was oddly calm, and Renly had to wonder how long Loras had spent agonising over what to say. He sighed though as he contemplated whether he actually wanted to let him in. He supposed that he couldn’t lock Loras out forever and that they would need to talk at some point, but at the same time, Renly thought he'd be lying if he said that he wasn’t at least a little fearful of letting Loras back in.

Torn, he glanced out the window. It was still raining outside, the wind howling through the trees and making the windows rattle. It was hardly weather to be out in and Renly wondered if the frosty March night would have made his decision for him. it was over an hour ago that Loras had sent that text and quite possibly, Renly thought, Loras would be long gone from outside the front door.

He supposed he ought to at least check though, and heaving himself out of bed, he padded down the stairs, doing his best not to feel nervous.

 

* * *

 

Renly proceeded with caution, pulling back the bolt but leaving the chain on as he opened the door a little warily, the hinges creaking as if they weren’t meant to be opened so slowly. 

In all honesty, he’d expected Loras to have long given up. As it was though, he was still there, sat on the step, shivering and in nothing but the thin linen shirt he'd been wearing earlier. He startled as Renly opened the door, and Renly wished he could make out his expression in the dim light of the street lamps.

He quickly scrambled to his feet. Renly could better see his face now, and he was unsurprised to see that there was none of the calm of Loras’ text visible on his face. With his wet curls whipping about him in the wind and the rain streaming down his face, he had the distinct look of a desperate man. 

His face fell further when he saw Renly had left the chain on and he stepped back hastily as if he thought he might appear threatening by being so close. “Renly?” he asked hoarsely.

It was a question but Renly didn’t really know what he was asking.

“Can I come in?” he whispered when Renly said nothing. “I’ve calmed down, I promise. And I’m sorry. Really, truly sorry.”

His voice was so pained and his look so pitiful that Renly couldn’t help but soften towards him. Sighing, he undid the chain and stood back silently to let him pass, noting a little anxiously that Loras was soaked to the skin, even his jeans dark and heavy with water. He stood a little awkwardly in the hall once he was inside, his clothes dripping onto the carpet in a steady rhythm. It must have been a very quiet noise indeed, but in the silence, the soft pitter-patter of drops hitting the floor seemed like thunder between them.

“Are you going to say anything Ren?” Loras breathed eventually, looking up at him almost fearfully. It was only then perhaps that Renly realised quite how much smaller than him Loras was. He’d always thought him on the wrong side of slim, but now, with his wet clothes moulded to his body, it almost looked like a child standing before him.

“Of course I’m going to say something,” Renly whispered. He had no idea though as to what. Never before had he felt more conflicted. His reason told him he should be angry, furious even, but looking at the pitiful thing in front of him, no anger seemed to come.

Loras waited as patiently as his nature allowed him, which wasn’t very patiently at all. He grew visibly distressed as he stood there and eventually, Renly just sighed, turning and beckoning him up the stairs. “You’re going to freeze to death like that,” he muttered under his breath. “You should get those wet clothes off before anything else.”

Loras bit down on his lower lip as if he disagreed, but he followed Renly up the stairs almost meekly. He evidently knew he was in disgrace. Indeed, when they reached their bedroom, he undressed in silence, peeling his sodden clothes off with his head hung low in evident shame. 

Renly ignored him for the most part, busying himself with turning the radiators up so that they could dry Loras' clothes. Once that was done though, he didn't feel he could pretend he wasn't there any longer, and so sighing, he approached to take Loras' wet clothes from him. Their hands barely touched in the exchange of garments, but even so, Renly winced as his fingers brushed over Loras’ skin. It was cold to the touch, dangerously cold perhaps. Renly was no doctor but he knew that you could get hypothermia surprisingly easily, and so dutifully, he took the covers off his bed and draped them around Loras' icy shoulders.

"You're frozen to the bone," he sighed, "we'll warm you up a bit and then I think you need a hot shower."

Loras did protest this time. “But we need to talk,” he insisted, his eyes wide. “I can’t bear it any longer.”

Renly sighed. “Bath then, and I’ll sit with you. We can talk while you're in it.” He headed to the bathroom, Loras hot on his heels as he turned on the water, Renly's duvet still draped across his shoulders. Sighing, Renly patted the stool next to the radiator. “And sit here while it runs," he added. He wasn’t foolish enough not to know that Loras had to warm up a little before he went anywhere near hot water.

Dutifully, Loras sat down, and after checking that the bathroom radiator was turned on, Renly spun to go downstairs.

“Where are you going?” Loras whispered.

“To make you a warm drink," Renly sighed. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Loras began to protest. He made to rise from the stool but Renly pushed him back onto it with slightly more force than he probably would usually have used.

"Stay," he said. In all honesty, Renly agreed with Loras. He didn't have to be nice enough to make Loras a drink to warm him up. Really, it should be Loras making him drinks for the rest of the year. As it was though, it would give him time to think, and it would certainly be better than sitting awkwardly beside Loras in the bathroom as he pondered how he ought to feel, what he ought to say.

The kitchen helped more than he'd expected with that. Renly had forgotten what a mess Loras had left it in, and looking about the room, Renly felt more than a little resentment towards the boy sat upstairs. Nobody, he thought, deserved to be treated like that, and regardless of how cold and wet Loras was now, nothing could really excuse that type of behaviour. It was ironic, Renly thought miserably as he picked his way through jagged bits of broken china to get to the kettle, if somebody had told him a week ago that he might ever be frightened of Loras, he would have laughed in their face. He'd have been proved dismally wrong though and he tried not to look at the proof of this as he made the two of them hot chocolates.

The bath was half full by the time that Renly came back upstairs with the drinks, and depositing the two mugs on the side of the bath, Renly bid Loras get in with a wave of his hand.

Loras hesitated to obey. “Renly,” he breathed, “please, I need to ap-“

“Just get in the god damn bath Loras," Renly told him bitterly. 

Loras got into the bath as if Renly had thrown him in it. Renly reckoned if he’d told him to jump off a cliff he’d have done it. He sat meekly in the water, and it was odd to see him like that, Renly thought to himself. Usually he was so proud, so arrogant, but you wouldn't have known that to look at him now. 

“Are you going to leave me Ren?” Loras whispered, not quite daring to look at him.

He sounded terrified and Renly took his time answering, sitting down on the stool to think. It hadn’t really occurred to him to leave Loras, which was more than a little hypocritical of him, he thought, for if the roles had been reversed and it had been Sansa’s boyfriend throwing things at her, he knew without a doubt that he’d have been pushing her to drop him quicker than she could run away from him. It seemed somehow different with Loras though, which was just as hypocritical of him, he supposed, as he knew all too well that that’s what Sansa too would say about any violent boyfriend of hers. _Joffrey is different_ , she’d used to say,  _He never meant to hurt me, and he promises it won’t happen again. If you only saw how sorry he is Renly, then you'd understand._

That last phrase of hers rang particularly true now, Renly thought. He was sure that Loras looked more pitiful than Joffrey ever could have done. Renly’s silence to his question seemed to have broken him. Naked and with his arms wrapped around his knees, he seemed to have shrunk into himself like a deflated balloon. It was impossible to believe that merely a few hours earlier Renly had found himself frightened of him.

“No,” Renly sighed as he looked upon him. “I’m not going to leave you Loras.”

Loras closed his eyes at that and he seemed to remember how to breathe again.

“But,” Renly said, and at that Loras suddenly looked terrified again, his eyes snapping open, wide and fearful. “If you ever treat me like that again, then my answer shall be different.”

Loras nodded vehemently, his head bobbing as if he were a puppet controlled by a manic puppeteer. “Of course Renly,” he whispered. “Of course.”

“And I mean it,” Renly warned. “You _ever_ treat me like that again and I’m the one who will be slamming the door and walking out.”

His tone must have been even harsher than Renly intended, for Loras only managed to nod once more, weakly, before tears were streaming down his face, big wet tears that Renly now realised he'd probably been holding in since he'd opened the door. Renly didn’t know what to make of that at all, and Renly bit down on his lower lip as he watched the best paid male supermodel in the world sit in his bath tub and sob, all because he'd thought Renly was going to leave him. He’d never seen Loras cry before and he suddenly felt terrible, regardless of the fact that he was well aware that what he’d said was perfectly within his rights.

“Don’t cry,” he implored, reaching out a hand to wipe away the cascade of tears. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, And I told you, I'm not going to leave you.”

Loras only cried harder. “But I deserve it Ren,” he said through his sobs. “I broke everything. And I scared you. I could see it. You were actually frightened of me.”

“No.” Renly lied. “Of course I wasn’t,” He perched on the side of the bath and beckoned him to him, letting Loras bury his face in his pyjama top even though he was all wet. He hated to see him cry; it unnerved him somehow and oddly, his instinct to get him to stop crying seemed to be stronger than his anger.

“It’ll never happen again.” Loras choked out vehemently, his words muffling into the fabric of Renly’s pyjama top. “I promise Renly, I’ll never lose my temper again like that. Never. And I’ll treat you better too, like you deserve to be treated. And I'll go away less often, or more often if that's what you want.”

Renly just stroked his wet hair as softly as he could. “Come on,” he sighed, “just stop crying for me will you?”

Loras nodded against Renly’s side and wiped his tears hastily away with his hands. He looked embarrassed now and to spare his pride, Renly reached out to take his hands and help pull him up out of the bath.

Nothing more was said until Renly had got them both into bed, pulling the covers up over them and cradling Loras to his chest. It was the reassurance Loras seemed to need and he relaxed a little then, enough perhaps that Renly thought they could at least attempt to talk things through like rational human beings.

“Whatever was the matter?” he sighed.

Loras took a while to answer, merely tucking himself further into Renly’s chest as if he were trying to hide there. “I got angry,” he said softly when Renly gave him a gentle nudge.

“You got angry?” Renly echoed in disbelief. _No shit Sherlock,_ he thought to himself. Next Loras was going to tell him the pope was a catholic, or that grass was green.

“ _Very_ angry?” Loras offered miserably.

“But why?” Renly whispered. He just couldn't see what had tipped Loras over the edge like that. 

“Because I genuinely thought you were having an affair,” Loras told him, his tone more defeated than Renly could ever have imagined it could be. “I was convinced you were seeing someone else, that you didn’t love me. I know you're not, and I realised that when I calmed down, but I just couldn't help thinking it when the hours passed and you didn't come home."

“But _why_ did you think that?” Renly repeated. “I grant you. I wasn’t answering my phone. But not answering my phone doesn’t automatically mean I’m seeing someone else behind your back.”

“I know,” Loras said wearily. “I know.”

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?” Renly asked. He almost refused to believe it. Usually, Loras was as stubborn as they came, he'd fight tooth and nail if somebody accused him of something. This, Renly supposed, had to be the result of several hours wandering around in the wind and rain, convinced all the while that he'd messed up so badly that there was no going back.

Loras shrugged as if he were made of wood and retreated to the safety that Renly’s shoulder offered him, hiding his face. “I guess I wound myself up,” he whispered stiffly.

Renly laughed at that, the sound rather harsh even to his own ears. “What you did tonight Loras? That’s not the work of winding yourself up. That’s the work of full blown paranoia.”

“Okay then,” Loras breathed, “I was paranoid.”

Renly rested his head on top of Loras’ wearily, wondering quite how they’d managed to end up with Loras desperately clinging to him like a lost kitten its mother no longer wanted. Really, he thought, after how Loras had behaved tonight, it should be the other way round. It should be him getting all the comfort and cossetting. He supposed though that he only had himself to blame. He’d always been a sucker for tears- a weakness that Sansa exploited in him regularly.

“Were you like this with your exes?” Renly braved to ask, wondering a little dismally what he could possibly have done to make this haughty and arrogant thing next to him convinced that he was about to be cheated on. “Or is it just me?”

“My exes?” Loras questioned quietly, raising his head and his damp curls springing up from where they'd been flattened against Renly's shoulder.

“Yes,” Renly laughed impatiently, “You know, those people you dated before me?”

Loras looked confused. “But I already told you,” he protested, “I don’t actually date the women I supposedly am. I wouldn’t care if they cheated on me.”

“Yes, okay,” Renly agreed, thinking that fairly obvious. “But what about the guys?”

“But I don’t have any exes that are guys?”

“You don’t?” Renly asked, cocking his head. He refused to believe that. 

“Not unless you count men I went on a few dates with?” Loras said stiffly. “I have hundreds of exes if you count them? I’ve been on a lot of dates, far too many. But you’re the first one that’s led to anything more, a proper relationship I mean.”

That was news to him, Renly thought, but then he supposed that that said, he didn't actually remember Sansa listing any men when she'd been through Loras' famous exes with him, and nor did he remember ever seeing a story about Loras that featured any kind of long-term boyfriend. He supposed it wasn't _that_ unusual to have your first proper relationship at twenty-one, and yet Renly had to sigh at the news that usually Loras' dates didn't lead to anything more than presumably a one night stand. That didn’t surprise him at all. He reckoned that most men who were only looking for a bit of fun would soon realise that Loras was not the one for them after a few dates and a few nights in bed with him.

“So explain it to me then,” Renly sighed, feeling a little guilty then for assuming that that was the reason Loras’ dates had never gone further before him. He supposed too that it wasn’t Loras’ fault that he had no imagination between the sheets; it was just one of those things. “Why are you so convinced that I’m going to sleep with someone else behind your back?”

“I don’t know?” Loras said, and it sounded so evasive that Renly wondered if, contrary to what he’d always thought, Loras was in fact aware that he was boring in bed. That would make sense, Renly figured- that perhaps Loras thought he might seek the satisfaction he didn’t get from him elsewhere.

He decided to test the waters, even though he was well aware he was walking on egg shells here. “Is it anything to do with our sex life?” he pressed gently. “Do you not think we have sex often enough or something?”

“No?” Loras protested, a little of his usual indignation coming back. “What we have is great Ren, it's not that at all.” 

 _So much for that theory then,_ Renly thought to himself with a sigh, a little disappointed. He would have very much liked to find that Loras was a little more self aware about what he offered his partners in bed. He supposed though that sex wasn't the most important of things. It wasn't like it was particularly _bad_ either; it was merely dull, and Renly supposed he could do a lot worse than that. “What is it then?” he asked wearily, “Why do you feel like I might be shacking up with some other guy when I’m actually innocently still at work?”

Loras winced at his words. “It’s nothing,” he said.

“My kitchen begs to differ,” Renly said dryly.

Loras winced again, harder this time, recoiling from him in evident shame. “You’ll take it the wrong way if I tell you,” he whispered.

“Well you’ll never know unless you do tell me,” Renly pointed out. It really was a struggle to understand, he thought to himself. Loras Tyrell had it all. He was attractive, rich, with a harem of pretty ex-girlfriends that had graced every magazine cover in existence whilst he himself had a career that only seemed to go from strength to strength. If it wasn't because he acknowledged the rut their sex life had gotten into, Renly really couldn't see why Loras could ever doubt that he'd be faithful to him. 

Loras sighed and took a big breath though. “I guess," he started, faltering a little, "I guess that I convinced myself that you’re only with me because I’m famous Ren, because I’m on the cover of magazines and because I’m hot.”

“And why would you think that?” Renly breathed.

“Well that’s why everyone else wanted to date me,” Loras said simply.

“But I’m not like everybody else,” Renly laughed, actually mustering a smile as he looked down at Loras, still tucked into his chest.

“So why did you ask me out?” Loras asked wryly. “Was it because you thought I was nice? Or because I looked like I’d be good fun? Or because you really wanted to get to know me maybe?”

He made his point clearly and Renly bit back a sigh. “Well no,” he admitted a little reluctantly, “I asked you out because you’re famous, on the covers of magazines, and hot.” He sighed deeply, leaning down to kiss Loras' wet hair even though he didn't deserve it. “But that was six months ago Loras. I wanted to sleep with you for those reasons. I wouldn’t date you for them.”

“So why do you love me then?” Loras asked, tipping his face up towards Renly's own. 

Renly sighed inwardly at that. It was the question nobody ever wanted to be asked, because regardless of how much you actually loved someone, it was always almost impossible to answer. He had to say something though, otherwise he'd just prove to Loras that his doubts were founded, that he was in fact dating him for his fame. “I love you because you make me laugh,” he tried, “and because we have fun together, and because even though you can be the most disdainful, sarcastic and unimpressed thing in the world, you’re actually a bit of a softie.” He paused awkwardly. “ _Usually_ ,” he added.

It was a bit of a pathetic list, Renly thought, but Loras seemed calmed by it all the same. He even smiled at him, the first emotion that looked familiar on him that Renly had seen all evening. 

“All right,” he sighed almost blissfully. “And I’m sorry Ren. I really am. And I'll do whatever it takes to make everything all right again. You’ll forgive me eventually won’t you?”

“Of course I'll forgive you,” Renly whispered. “But I shan't forget, and nor shall I forgive you twice remember?” That, he was to be clear on, Renly thought. 

Loras nodded. “Not twice,” he repeated as he settled himself back against Renly’s chest and wrapped his arms round Renly's chest, his eyes closing.

Renly sighed as he looked down at him. He looked so peaceful there, so calm, quite at odds with the devastation he’d caused earlier. It was almost impossible to believe it were the same person, Renly reckoned, and it unnerved him a little that Loras was capable of such extremes. 

 _I should have sent you packing on principle shouldn’t I?_ Renly thought to himself as he tucked the blankets absent-mindedly around him, still far too aware that that's what he'd have advised Sansa. He made the mistake then though of looking down at him again. Loras’ eyes were open now, and he was smiling quietly up at him with that expression he often wore when Renly made love to him. It tugged at Renly's heartstrings more than a little bit, and it was enough to make him hate himself for even _thinking_ that he should leave him.


	13. Chapter 13

Renly woke once more to a text the next morning, his entire pillow seeming to vibrate underneath him as he was forced violently awake. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes, vaguely registering that Loras was tucked into his chest, his arms wound tightly around him as if their bed was an ocean and Renly was an anchor. This, Renly thought sleepily, was unsurprising considering how desperately Loras had clung to him last night, evidently drawing as much reassurance as he could from the proximity of their bodies.

Glancing down at him too through sleep-clouded eyes, Renly could see a little fabric peeking out from under the covers, fabric which he recognised as belonging to one of his t-shirts- Loras' staple for what he usually chose to wear to bed. Evidently Loras had already been up in the night to put it on and Renly wondered whether Loras drew comfort from that too, if perhaps the the scent and feel of his clothes offered a reassurance of their own. He supposed perhaps that the clothes allowed Loras to fool himself into believing that they were still entwined, even when they were actually sleeping a little apart.

Yawning, he tried to reach around him for his vibrating phone, awkwardly, until the mass of curls underneath his chin began to shift and his phone was pressed silently into his hands by much smaller and delicate ones. This too unsurprised Renly; he figured he should have known Loras would already be awake and sighing, he pressed a kiss into his hair before sliding his finger across his phone to unlock it, Sansa's name popping up with one new message. 

 _Renly!!_  it read, _what has happened?! It’s all over the Daily Mail that you and Loras have had a fight??? You have to ring me ASAP! xxxxx_

Renly groaned and got up the Daily Mail on his phone. There was some usual drivel about UKIP and the evils of the European Union as the top story but as he scrolled down, moving away from the articles that could be considered vaguely newsworthy and moving towards the celebrity-obsessed stories that the Daily Mail always loved, he sighed to see that there was a very large picture of Loras sandwiched between a reality star's boob job and and who wore what to a film premier. It was a slightly blurry photo, but evidently he was sat on the step outside Renly's flat, his face half turned away from the camera. Below it was much speculation that the two of them were on the verge of going through a turbulent break up.

He closed the tab gladly and brought up Sansa's text again. _Later_ , he told her simply. He had no desire to explain everything when Loras himself was curled up in bed next to him, and putting his phone back under his pillow, he gave him a soft nudge.

"Apparently you were photographed last night," he told him.

Loras lifted his head from where it was buried in Renly's neck. "I know," he said with a sigh. "My management isn’t very happy with me.”

Renly sighed deeply too, scratching his head. "Well there's nothing you can do about it now," he said to try and placate him, slipping a comforting hand into Loras' curls. "What's done is done."

Loras shrugged in his arms, pushing himself closer. "They want me to fix it."

"Fix it?" Renly laughed, slipping his hands around Loras' waist with the thought that he might as well indulge Loras in his search for reassurance. "Are we going to have to go out and lay it on heavy with the public displays of affection then?" He smiled as he imagined how easy it would be. He and Loras only had to hold hands in public before every photographer stalking Loras within a mile's radius was all but on top of them, their cameras flashing manically.

“Nah,” Loras said though, relaxing into his embrace. "No need. That was before twitter,”

Renly laughed, cottoning on quickly, "Ah," he sighed fondly, "the age of the selfie.... How I love a good candid selfie." He grinned. "But please say we don't have to move from bed? There's definitely charm in telling the world that we're still in bed at midday right?"

Loras gave him a small smile, moving reluctantly out of his embrace as he sat up against the headboard. Anyone else might have taken Renly's comments as sarcastic but Loras evidently knew him and his vanity too well to doubt the sincerity behind his words. Tucking himself under Renly's arm as soon as Renly sat up to join him, he ruffled his hair artfully.

Renly laughed softly. "Am I taking or you?" 

Loras shrugged. "I don't mind," His voice was rather meek and Renly wondered how long it would be before he felt brave enough in their relationship to have opinions on things again.  
  
"You do it then," Renly told him gently. 

Loras took a good few, but really, Renly thought, it was impossible to get a photo of the two of them that wasn't going to make every woman weak at the knees and every man jealous of quite how perfect they looked. They simply made a splendid picture, Renly couldn't help but think a little gleefully. Loras’ curls were all rumpled from sleep, in that great _I just got out of bed but am still incredibly hot_ look that others would spend hours achieving. His own hair was sticking up quite satisfyingly too and Renly reckoned he had just the perfect amount of morning stubble. Definitely sexy, but not too much. And with his bare shoulders just visible and Loras sat in what was evidently not his own t-shirt, Renly thought that Loras’ fans would probably go wild for it.

Loras uploaded it with the expertise of a practised twitter user and Renly was so satisfied with what a glorious picture the two of them took that he all but forgot entirely why he and Loras had a situation that needed fixing. He was reminded sharply though when Loras turned to him with a very solemn look on his face.

“Renly?” he asked quietly, “You won’t tell anyone about last night will you? We can keep it between ourselves can't we?”

Renly paused. Loras looked so pitiful that he almost agreed. He knew though that that would be nothing but a lie. “Well I’ll have to tell Sansa,” he said diplomatically. “I tell her everything,”

Loras didn’t look happy but he didn’t dare argue either. “Just Sansa then?” he said hopefully, his hair falling over his eyes as he wrapped his arms around his knees.

“Just Sansa,” Renly agreed, as he dragged himself reluctantly out of bed to pull a shirt on. Speaking of Sansa, he supposed he should probably get seeing her over with. It was only a matter of time really before she simply became too desperate to know what had happened and sought him out.

Loras was very quiet whilst Renly dressed and he stayed in bed, fidgeting with the bedclothes restlessly. It was only when Renly started running a brush through his hair, a clear sign that he was on his way out, that he decided to speak, and even then his voice was a shadow of what it had been earlier.

"You don't actually tell Sansa everything do you?" he asked quietly, raising his face to Renly's.

Renly hesitated, the brush half way to his head. "Well not everything," he laughed, thinking though that he probably shared more with Sansa than Loras would be at all happy about. "But I guess a fair bit, yes."

"Like intimate things?" Loras asked. "About our relationship?" He seemed a little anxious and whilst Renly had never thought it before, he wondered if Loras felt a little threatened by how close he was to Sansa.

He sighed. "Sometimes," he admitted. He gave a small laugh, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you ask? You're not suspicious that I'm having an affair with her too are you?" That was a little bit of a low blow, he thought, but one he was quite sure he was entitled to.

Indeed, his words shut Loras up like a clam and he didn't get up to follow when Renly made his way out of his bedroom with the aim of scavenging some breakfast before heading off to Sansa's. Instead, he remained in bed, his knees still drawn up and his expression clearly miserably again. 

It was an expression that Renly felt a little guilty about when he reached the kitchen. He'd evidently correctly guessed that Loras had been up before he himself had woken, for the kitchen was tidy again, all the smashed pieces of china gone from where they'd littered the floor. Loras had evidently been not only up but out too though, and Renly sighed when he saw that there was a big box tied with a red bow in the middle of the table. Next to it lay a bunch of flowers.

What was in the box was unsurprising. It was a set of plates and bowls- very expensive and very like the ones Loras had broken. It was the flowers though that softened Renly's heart. They were beautiful, a mixture of roses and lilies that had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper for him.

He'd had never been bought flowers before and it made him smile even if he did know that the reason he was getting them was because he’d had plates thrown at him yesterday.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _He did what?_ ” Sansa exclaimed.

“You heard,” Renly mumbled, fiddling irritably with a Cath Kidston print throw that Sansa had on her bed. It had been painful enough the first time to go through the events of last night. He had no desire to do it again.

“That is outrageous,” she said, her perfectly shaped brows arched incredulously. “That is like domestic violence.”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Renly laughed, though a small voice at the back wondered miserably again whether he'd be singing the same tune if it was one of Sansa's boyfriends who had thrown things at her. He tried not to think about it too much, and he felt somehow comforted by the fact that he knew Loras was currently sitting alone at home, fretting over what Renly might tell the redhead sitting opposite him.

“Still!” she protested, "It's just simply not acceptable."

That was rich coming from her, Renly thought with a sigh. He knew that if their places were exchanged and she was the one dating a supermodel, she'd probably let Loras beat her before she considered leaving someone she idolised.

“Your opinion of him gone down then?” he asked, running his hands through his hair. "Even if you think that his sitting outside waiting for me is a little bit romantic?"

“Of course!" she said, flicking her long plait over her shoulder."I am outraged for you.”

Renly smiled slyly. “Well then I guess you won’t be interested in going to a shoot with him tomorrow?”

“What?”

Renly shrugged mildly, not sure still whether he should laugh or sigh at Loras' very obvious attempts at damage control. Loras hadn't been subtle about it in the slightest. He evidently knew that Sansa was the one of the few people who had significant sway over Renly's opinions and he knew too thus that he had to win Sansa back over at all costs.

“Well he’s got a shoot tomorrow," Renly repeated, "for British Vogue I think, and he wanted to know if you fancied going?”

Sansa sat opposite him, torn. It was most amusing, Renly thought. He could see her inner struggle written plainly on her face- an all out war between what she desperately wanted and what she evidently knew her father would say was right. She almost looked as pitiful as Loras had done last night, and eventually Renly felt he had no choice but to put her out of her misery.

"Go,” Renly laughed softly. "I can fight my own battles.”

That, he knew, would seal it.

 

* * *

 

 

She went, as Renly had always know she would. He saw the pair of them off from his doorstep, a little amused at the very forced bonding trip Loras was taking her on. There had been no more mention of Loras learning to drive and Renly smiled at the look of awe on Sansa's face as Loras took her arm and opened the door of the black cab for her. He didn't think he'd ever seen her happier and he supposed he should be happy that Loras was making such an effort with his best friend even if he did have to wonder whether it was just another symptom of the crippling jealousy Loras had shown him he was prone to.

It was hours and hours before they were back, and Renly had to laugh out loud when he saw Sansa slide out of the car as elegantly as she could with the piles and piles of shopping bags she had with her. Loras had evidently pulled out all the stops to appease her and Renly couldn't help but find how shameless Loras was prepared to be a little bit humorous.

Her eyes were wide and bright as she came up the stairs, Loras hot on her heels, and Renly took her shopping bags from her as soon as he was close enough, noting the very impressive labels that most of them carried.

“It was amazing Renly,” she sighed dreamily, stepping up the stairs as if was walking on air. “the clothes, the photographers, the models, it was just heaven,”

"Well you shall have to tell me all about it in," Renly laughed as he ushered her in, waiting for Loras to catch up and giving him a kiss.

"I need to apologise,” Loras said gravely under his breath as Renly shut the door behind them. “I didn’t know she would be so enthusiastic about it. All the way back she's been talking about going to agencies, and trying to get signed. I think I might have sparked an obsession.”

Renly laughed at that, entirely unsurprised. He was used to Sansa's fleeting fancies. They'd go to a film and suddenly she'd want to be an actress; they'd go to a musical and she'd want stage training. Even watching a particularly riveting talent show was enough to inspire Sansa. He would humour her as best he could though and smiling, he sat down on the arm of the sofa that Sansa had chosen to sink down onto just as Loras slunk out of the room to give them some privacy.

"Come on then," he laughed, "Start talking. I want all the details."

Her face lit up at his interest and she launched into a cascade of the delights she and Loras had shared. "He was amazing," she gushed, her eyes shining like stars. "They let me stand behind the screen to see the photos as they took them and every single frame was so beautiful. And the creative director told me he mistook me for one of the models and it was so so lovely even if he might have been joking. And then afterwards we stopped to do a little shopping and it was simply wonderful Renly. It was like a dream!”

Renly grinned at her, putting an arm around her shoulders fondly. "Why was it so wonderful?" he prompted.

"Well it was so surreal," she sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "Obviously he was recognised wherever we went and we were treated like royalty. We were offered champagne in every shop and I had people running around me whenever I tried anything on, giving me suggestions and telling me how I should compliment my figure or my complexion. It was like having servants at my beck and call, Renly, and Loras wouldn't let me pay for anything."

Renly smiled. He wondered if the champagne had anything to do with quite how giddy she seemed. He didn't doubt too that Ned Stark would be very grateful that Loras had refused to let his daughter pay for anything. The Starks had plenty of money but somehow Renly didn't think stoic Ned Stark would be too happy about Sansa blowing tens of thousand of pounds on handbags she didn't need or pairs of shoes she could hardly walk in.

"It sounds wonderful," he laughed. Loras, it seemed, had done his job well.


	14. Chapter 14

Loras had promised Renly that he would be as good as gold from now on to make up for his atrocious behaviour and Renly had to admit that Loras truly seemed to be doing his best on that front. He seemed busier than ever, flitting around Europe like a tireless butterfly as he did shoots and shows and made the guest appearances he was contracted to, but still somehow, he managed to find time to dote on Renly too. Renly wasn’t quite sure how he did it, but often now he would come down in the morning to find that Loras had made him breakfast even though he’d been in Paris merely a few hours earlier, or that he’d reserved them a table for dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in town despite having barely had time to sleep for three days.

And for all Loras' many faults, Renly supposed that that had to be his one true redeeming feature. For all that he was jealous of other men or prone to sulking, he played no games with his affections and he made no attempts to hide the fact that he loved Renly with a strength that bordered on total and utter adoration. Quite what Renly had done to make this young supermodel all but revere him he had no idea, but he supposed that it probably came down to Loras' nature. Never, did Loras do anything by halves. The way in which he loved was no different.

He even found time for Sansa too, something which Renly knew he only did because he thought it pleased him. He wasn’t totally wrong about that, and Renly did have to smile to see the true joy that Loras brought to Sansa by indulging her in her fancies, regardless of whether they were silly or whether he had better things to be getting on with, which really, if they were being honest, was always the case.

Today, he was being particularly agreeable to her, and he, Renly, Arya and Gendry had gathered in Renly’s living room to help soothe Sansa’s nerves before an open casting call for new faces that she was to be going to on Monday, sure as she was now that she was going to be the new Miranda Kerr.

“So,” Sansa said, standing before them all as they sat on the sofa. “I was thinking of wearing this.” She turned from side to side so that they could get an all round view.

Renly looked her up and down, eyes travelling from her plain jeans to the plain vest top she was wearing and finding himself uninspired. Usually, Sansa stood out from a crowd with her fashion choices, looking elegant but edgy, and Renly found himself itching to get up and dress her how he thought she ought to be dressed. He nodded a little unenthusiastically. “It’s a bit dull isn't it?” he admitted. "I know you're supposed to give them a blank canvas to work with, but couldn't it be just a _little_ bit more exciting?"

“It’s not supposed to be exciting,” Sansa protested, flicking her long red hair over her shoulders. “And this is what you told me to wear, isn’t it Loras?”

Loras nodded from the sofa, where he was squeezed a little uncomfortably between Renly and Gendry in an odd sort of Baratheon sandwich. "She's right," he told Renly with a laugh. It must have been hot pressed between two men as large as Renly and Gendry, and exhaling deeply, he twisted awkwardly to get his jacket off, draping it over Renly like a cloak. "And just out of interest Renly, when was the last exciting blank canvas _you_ saw?"

Renly just shrugged sheepishly.

"See," Sansa said a little smugly, hands on hips as she smoothed down her tragically plain top. "I told you I was right."

“Then why are you asking us then?” Arya complained loudly, lolling on Gendry’s knee. “He’s the professional isn't he?”

"Well if you must know, I only asked you to come to be polite," Sansa hissed. "Mum thinks I don't include you enough."

"Well next time can you make that clearer?" Arya grumbled. "Like I want to be here anyway. I have plenty of better things to be doing than watching you parade around in ugly clothes, all whilst squashed on a sofa that should be big enough for four people but is actually only big enough for three because two of them are hulking great Baratheons." She shifted uncomfortably on Gendry's lap as if to illustrate her point.

"Hulking?" Renly laughed mildly. He reached over Loras to nudge Gendry and grin at him. "That's not very nice of your girlfriend is it?"

Gendry just gave a small smile and flexed his biceps. He shrugged. "There are worse things," he said. He tightened his grip on Arya and moved her slightly. "At least we don't have bony arses like this one. It's like having one of those scrawny alley cats on my lap."

Renly laughed loudly at that as Arya narrowed her eyes at the two of them like the alley cat she'd just been told she was. Arya was undeniably a little on the scrawny side, she always had been even as a girl, and Renly reckoned that he could relate to Gendry's woes. It was very rarely that Loras put himself on Renly's lap but when he did so, Renly would be lying if he said it was a particularly comfortable experience. Smiling though, he wrapped an arm around Loras' shoulders, wondering why the Baratheon men always seemed to choose tiny slips of partners that they could probably break if they weren't careful with their apparently hulking great hands. Indeed, whilst he'd have quite liked it if Loras gained a stone or even two, he quite enjoyed the way that Loras seemed to fit neatly under his arm when they were sat together.

"Anyway," Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes at her sister's antics as she turned her attentions back to Loras. “Is this okay then?”

Loras frowned slightly, nudging closer to Renly as he always did when that was an option to him. “Is this you all put together for it?” he asked. “The finished product so to speak?”

“Yes,” Sansa said a little nervously, smoothing the non-existent creases in her clothes once more.

“Well then,” Loras laughed. “First things first, you need to take off all the jewellery.”

"But you'll make her look even more boring," Renly complained, raising an eyebrow. "She already looks like she's running against my brother for the most boringly dressed of the year award and nobody should ever look more boring than Stannis."

"Just shut up for one moment won't you?" Loras laughed, clearly exasperated as he ran his hands through his hair. His voice was fond though and he placed a warm hand on Renly's thigh when Renly did his best to look wounded.

Duly, Sansa removed the necklace and bracelet she was wearing. “Even my earrings?” she said, pushing her hair back behind her ears so that Loras could see the gold teardrops that hung there. They, Renly remembered, had been a present from Joffrey, and were probably the only decent thing to ever come out of that relationship. Solid gold, they shimmered so beautifully in every possible light that they almost went a little way to redeeming the little shit that was Renly's nephew. Like his mother's entire family, Renly supposed he had to admit that Joffrey had good taste in gold if in nothing else.

"Surely not the earrings too," he laughed. "They're so inoffensive,"

“Even the earrings,” Loras said firmly. “And you’ve got way too much make up on Sansa. They want to see you looking natural," He sighed, looking her up and down critically. "You'll want to tie your hair back off your face too.”

“But I feel so much better with my hair down,” Sansa protested, fidgeting with the long red strands that were falling about her face as she twirled them around her finger.

Loras shrugged. “Leave it then. But I guarantee that they’ll ask you to tie it up as soon as you arrive to better see your face."

She hastily tied it up.

“What about the shoes?” she asked, picking up one of her feet and turning it towards them. In black suede. they were shoes that she wore rather often to work, and Renly was rather fond of them.

Loras raised an eyebrow ever so slightly though. “Um...” he said, pushing his hair off his face. “Well they’re nice. But they’re not high enough.”

Sansa nodded as if she might have been expecting that, but Arya laughed out loud.

“Not high enough?” she snorted. “Those have got such a pointy end that you could probably stab someone with them.” She folded her arms across her chest, still sat atop Gendry's lap. "It's ridiculous what women are expected to wear for fashion."

Loras shrugged, unfazed. "Ridiculous or not, they'll want to see if you can walk in shoes and if you’re not wearing your own, ones that they deem suitable I mean, they’ll give you a pair. And I’m told it’s much easier to walk in shoes that are yours.”

“I’ve got some higher ones in my bag," Sansa told him cheerfully. Hair bouncing in her ponytail like the tail of a glorious red cat, she ran to her bag and started sifting through it. After pulling out several pairs of shoes, she eventually found the ones she was looking for. They were beige and Renly thought they looked like the sort of boring shoes that the Duchess of Cambridge might wear, but he supposed that the colour would make her legs look particularly long.

“But can you walk in them?” he laughed as he looked at the heel on them, thinking how often he would see Sansa wobble when they went out. "That's the real question here."

“Of course I can,” she protested indignantly, swishing her hair to maximum effect.

“That means she can’t,” Arya explained gravely as Gendry nodded behind her, “You fell down the stairs last week in those. I saw you.”

“ _Arya!_ ” Sansa hissed almost venomously. “I did not. I’m a lady and ladies walk with elegance and grace. I might have taken a very small _misstep_ but that was only because your boyfriend had left his dirty laundry on the stairs." She popped the shoes daintily on her feet and sashayed over as if to prove Arya wrong. And admittedly, she’d evidently been practising for the occasion, for Renly reckoned that she looked a lot less wobbly than she usually did.

“They’re better,” Loras agreed, yawning slightly and leaning his head against Renly's shoulder. “But you’ll need to walk properly in them for any agency that you see.”

“As opposed to crawling…?” Arya snorted

“Or hopping…?” Gendry added.

“Or doing the funky chicken across the room?”

“Or the caterpillar?”

“Just be quiet will you!” Sansa told them as Loras rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have invited at all if I knew you were going to be so stupid and immature.”

“Your mum’s stupid,” Arya retorted lazily, leaning back against Gendry's chest.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Sansa cried. “We share a mum!”

“And she’s stupid,” Arya supplied helpfully. “Why else would she have made me go to Guides for five years and collect useless pointless badges and wear a sash."

Sansa looked like she had something to say to that but Renly got there first. “Everyone just calm down,” he laughed. “We're here to help Sansa prepare, not to bicker over your mother."

Sansa nodded, regaining her composure with a little difficultly. "Right," she said airily, " I was about to walk wasn't I?" Moving to the very edge of the room, she adjusted her shoes a little nervously. Eventually, after a little deliberation, she set off with long purposeful strides, her hips swaying from side to side before she stopped, posed, and turned back again, her heels clicking against Renly's wooden floor. And whilst Arya and Gendry looked a little like they wanted to laugh, Renly didn't think she looked half bad. He'd definitely seen worse.

She seemed a little self-conscious afterwards, and lifting her head, she looked over at Loras nervously. "Was it terrible?" she asked, fidgeting with her hands. "Sandor's been helping me practise but he doesn't really know what he's looking for and he thinks it all a bit silly really."

"No," Loras laughed as Renly blissfully imagined Sandor Clegane's attempts to critique Sansa's runway walk. "It wasn't terrible." Shrugging off Renly's arm from around his shoulders, he got up to join her, Arya quickly taking his spot on the sofa. "But you did look slightly like you were terrified."

"Well I _was_ nervous," Sansa admitted.

"Which you can't be," Loras told her firmly, leaning against the wall in a picture of casual elegance. "If you don't believe you're the most beautiful thing to walk in the room, nobody else sure is going to."

Renly frowned, pulling Loras' jacket over his knees to replace his warmth. "But that goes against everything I've been taught Loras. As far as I knew, you're only beautiful when everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you?" He grinned. "Isn't that what makes you beautiful?"

Loras raised a scathing eyebrow. "One Direction Renly? Really? It kind of disturbs me that you could quote that."

"Ah yes," Renly laughed, "But don't be so quick to judge! You, after all, _recognised_  my quoting of it."

Loras shrugged. "Everyone in the western world would recognise it." He glanced at Gendry and Arya who looked a little stumped. " _Almost_ everyone in the western world," he clarified. He turned back to Sansa and ignored Renly grinning at him. "Anyway, why don't you try it again."

She did, and this time Loras followed behind her, correcting her posture and her speed. She seemed to do better with him giving her advice from alongside her, and yet as soon as he disappeared she seemed to forget all that she'd been told.

“Can you not show me?” she sighed to Loras after the fifth time she'd walked across the room and Loras had had to correct her posture once more.

Loras merely raised an eyebrow. “No,” he said with a small laugh. "I can't."

“Why not?” Renly laughed, beckoning Loras back to him. Arya had taken his spot on the sofa and so as soon as he got close enough Renly pulled him onto his lap, thinking he could cope with the discomfort for a little while. 

“Because her walking down the runway like a guy won’t help matters,” Loras told him simply.

“Couldn’t you walk like a girl?” Renly teased.

Loras merely rolled his eyes. “You find high heels to fit me in this house and sure, I’ll indulge you.”

"Well did I never tell you about my secret stash of heels?" Renly retorted with as straight a face as he could manage. "I've got loads Loras."

"Is that so?" Loras asked sceptically, eyebrow raised. He leant down and bending Renly's leg for him, pulled one of Renly's feet up onto his lap. Twisting, he brought one of his own feet up too and Renly had to laugh to see how small Loras' feet were compared to his own. "As I said," Loras continued with a smug smile, "You find me a pair of heels to fit me in this house and I'll indulge you."

Renly sighed deeply. "Fine," he said. "I'll have to order some off Ebay for you then." He rubbed his hands gleefully at the scowl that brought to Loras' face and grinning, he twisted around to kiss his nose to wind him up further. "Genuinely though," he laughed. "I hadn't realised how sweet and dainty your feet were," Leaning down, he made to grab one of Loras' feet, with the aim to tickle it.

Renly would have thought that it would have been easy to force Loras into submission and grab one of his feet, but in actual fact, he only succeeded in forcing Loras off his lap.

"You know what," Loras said once he'd backed away to a safe distance. "I might go and ring Margaery whilst you obsess over my feet." Rolling his eyes, he turned and headed into the kitchen.

Renly grinned at his back. He should have known that Loras would disappear to phone his sister at one point. That, he supposed, was the one aspect of Loras' day that he refused to compromise on. Smiling, he turned to the others as Loras disappear into the next room. "He does have dainty feet though doesn't he?" he laughed. 

Arya snorted. "An elephant's feet would be sweet and dainty next to yours and Gendry's, Renly."

Renly just shrugged. "True," he grinned, "but you know what they saw about big feet don't you Arya?"

To Sansa's horror, Arya smirked a little evilly. "Of course I do," she retorted, "Gendry's got a hug-"

"A huge _motorbike_ ," Sansa said hurriedly, her face turning a bright red. "Don't you Gendry?" She seemed to have no logic to her, Renly thought with some amusement as he watched her flush more and more pink. What she'd happily enough gossip about with him, she seemed to cringe at in any sort of company.

Gendry, however, seemed willing to humour the slightly uptight sister of his girlfriend. He nodded solemnly. "I do have a huge motorbike," he said, making Sansa visibly relax. Looking too towards the kitchen where Loras could be heard on the phone, he stood up, evidently thinking that it would be acceptable now that Loras had got up too. "I might have a smoke," he said, stretching with a yawn, and Renly wondered quite how long he'd been itching to get up. Probably since he'd arrived, Renly thought.

Sansa's mouth tightened slightly at Gendry's words and even Arya rolled her eyes. Their hatred of smoking, Renly knew, was the only thing that the two sisters seemed to agree on. But for Gendry, who had grown up in a garage amongst spare parts and useless bits of metal, smoking seemed to come with the territory, and often Sansa would complain to Renly that he made their flat stink.

Gendry just shrugged though, their judgement bouncing off him. "Anyone have a light?" he asked.

“As if,” Sansa said disdainfully.

"Sorry," Renly apologised as he too held up his empty hands. "Loras will do though.”

Gendry glanced in the direction of the kitchen. "Will he mind if I interrupt?"

Renly shrugged, and picking up Loras' jacket from across his knees, tossed it in Gendry's direction. "Probably in the inside pocket. I'm sure he won't care. He's not that much of a bastard that he's above sharing. Especially when it comes to his fellow nicotine addicts."

Gendry nodded. "Well if you're sure." He reached into one of Loras' inside pockets and rooted around. He found nothing in the first and so tried the other one, eventually pulling out a lighter. Oddly though, he frowned and then a small smile came to his face. "And here was I thinking your boyfriend was dull," he chuckled as he tossed the jacket back to Renly.

Renly frowned, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?" he asked, catching the jacket easily.

Gendry looked a little guilty at Renly's expression. "Nothing," he said gruffly. "Didn't mean to interfere."

That made no sense to Renly and turning Loras' jacket over, he too reached into the inside pocket. The first thing he pulled out was a pack of Rizla and a tin of tobacco. Suspiciously, he opened it. It smelt like normal tobacco though and so he closed it again, reaching back into Loras' pocket once more. The next thing he found was a pack of filters, equally as innocent, but then as his hand brushed the silk lining, his fingers clasped around a small bag and the jagged edge of Loras' keys. Frowning, he pulled them both out. The bag was tiny and almost half full with white powder, and as Renly looked at it, he didn't know what to think. He could only stare down at it in disbelief.

"You're jumping to conclusions," Sansa said warily when he was silent. "It could be anything."

"Yeah," Arya agreed. "It could be anything. Like speed, or ecstasy, or coke, or her-"

"I get the point." Renly snapped. Miserably, he turned the bag over and examined it from that angle. He could still hear Loras chatting away to Margaery in the next room and he didn't think he'd ever felt more betrayed. Humiliated too, he thought bitterly as he looked around at the faces of his friends, all watching on in silence. Swallowing his anger and his pride, he tried to think clearly. Loras hardly ate and he hardly slept but he was never tired. He had mood swings like a teenager and had spent one night in a vicious rage that he'd never properly explained. And as the pieces slowly fell into place, Renly wondered now if he was stupid never to have seen this coming. Regardless of Sansa's caution, he knew all too well what the powder was. It was as synonymous with the fashion industry as STIs were with the porn industry and it made rage boil up under Renly's skin.

"What are you going to do?" Sansa whispered, her eyes wide.

Quite honestly, Renly had no idea, save for the fact that he quite fancied punching the wall. He had to say something though, and he had just opened his mouth to speak when Loras himself came back in, entirely oblivious. 

"Margaery says hi," he said, laughing as he tried to sit back down on Renly's lap. It was only when Renly batted him away that he seemed to notice the tension in the room and confused, he looked down at Renly, his head cocked and hurt in his eyes at the rejection he clearly hadn't been expecting. It didn't take him long to realise that something was amiss, and warily, he looked around. Sansa was sat silently on the arm of the sofa with her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes on the floor. Arya and Gendry sat beside her, mouths shut too. Evidently disconcerted, Loras glanced back at Renly. "What's the matter?" he asked.

“Nothing,” Renly said stiffly as Loras regarded him. “We just need to have a chat is all.”

“We do?” Loras laughed. “All right. Well I shall be all yours once Sansa is completely satisfied with what she's doing on Monday."

“I meant now,” Renly growled.

Loras almost jumped. Not once had Renly ever spoken to him like that and confusion plastered over his face, he nodded. He hovered awkwardly as Renly rose sharply from the sofa and followed him to their bedroom in silence. His expression made up for his lack of words though, and fidgeting anxiously, he tried continuously to take hold of Renly's hand until Renly balled his fist up.

“What’s wrong Ren?” he breathed in the empty hallway. “You’re frightening me.”

“Am I?” Renly retorted bitterly.

Once again taken aback by his tone, Loras nodded slowly. “Yeah," he admitted, "a little. What’s the matter?”

“This is the matter.” Renly closed the bedroom door behind them and held the tiny bag up for Loras to see. Taking a deep steadying breath, he watched as recognition dawned on Loras' handsome face.

Loras didn’t say anything for a long time. Stock still and biting down on his lower lip, he merely shoved his hands in his pockets and stood in silence like a dog Renly had just told off. “Oh,” he said eventually, his voice barely a whisper.

“Is that all you have to say?” Renly demanded.

Loras sighed, running his hands through his hair. “No actually," he said, finding the bravery to look Renly in the eye. "I'd like to know what you were doing going through my pockets?”

Renly stared at him in disbelief and once more anger was coursing through his veins, bubbling up underneath his skin to the extent that he began to feel like Robert. “ _That_ is your question?”

“Yes,” Loras said stiffly, raising his face more than a little defiantly. “Why would you root through my pockets if you trust me?”

“Well I was bloody wrong to trust you wasn’t I?” Renly could feel his voice getting louder and he wasn't sure how long he could keep his calm.

Loras scowled at that.“You talk like I’m cheating on you," he hissed. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal and you know it," Renly snapped back, "otherwise you wouldn’t have hidden it from me in the first place.”

He'd got Loras there and he watched as Loras tried desperately to find something to say back to that and failed. "Fine," he sighed eventually. "It's a big deal to you but it's not a big deal to me." He looked up at Renly almost hopefully this time. "Can't we just agree to disagree and move on then?"

Renly felt his mouth twisting downwards into a scowl. He probably looked like Stannis but he found he didn't give a shit about it. Loras spoke as if they were having a disagreement over the weather rather than a deadly substance that was as addictive as it was harmful. "No we can't," he spat. "You're poisoning yourself Loras and you expect me to be okay with that!?" He took Loras roughly by the shoulders, fighting the desire to shake him like a rag doll. "Do you do it often?" he hissed. 

Loras said nothing to that and then Renly truly did lose his temper. "I ASKED YOU A QUESTION," he roared. It was only the fact that he sounded scarily like Robert that stopped him from indeed shaking Loras until he answered.

Loras flinched violently at his words as if Renly had slapped him. "Yes," he admitted stiffly, glancing warily at Renly's hands either side of his face. "I do it often. But really Ren, you try living a week in my shoes. I’d like to see you cope without collapsing from exhaustion.”

He'd answered the question and Renly forced himself to try and be reasonable. Regardless of his effort, it took all his willpower to let go of Loras' shoulders. "You have to stop," he said through clenched teeth. Emotions were running through his mind one by one, muddling and mingling until Renly felt he might fall down, and yet Renly was certain that Loras had to stop. He'd been certain of that the moment that he'd seen the small bag in Loras' pocket.

“Or what?” Loras asked bitterly, eyes narrowed.

Renly found that he didn't even need to think about the answer that question; throwing plates at him was one thing but a class A drug habit was another thing entirely. "Or we won't be able to be together anymore," he told him icily. 

The colour drained out of Loras’ face almost immediately, and feebly, he sank down onto the bed. “But I’ve been good,” he whispered. “You said it yourself. Everything has been great these past few weeks.” The defiance was gone from his face and Renly was reminded painfully of how he'd looked that night in the bath, equally defeated and equally terrified.

It was enough to clear Renly's head a little and he sighed as he bent down until his face was level with Loras'. "I know it has," he agreed as softly as he could manage.“But everything won’t be great if you continue to poison yourself.” He put his hands back on his shoulders,softly this time. “But you’ll stop won’t you? For me?”

“Or you’ll leave me?” Loras whispered. The thought seemed to frighten him as much as it had done the last time and Renly felt pity well up in him once more in spite of everything. Loras it seemed, loved too wholly, so much so that it was all too easy to use as a weapon against him. It pained Renly to think that that was what he was doing and yet when he looked down at the bag of cocaine still in his hands, he felt quite assured that it was for Loras' own good.

Sighing, he rubbing his temple wearily. "That's not how I would have worded it but no, I won’t stay with you no."

He expected Loras to point out that leaving him and not staying with him meant exactly the same thing, but he didn't. He merely sat there on the bed in silence, fiddling with his hands.

It was only when Renly sat down beside him that he spoke. “Do you love me Renly?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” That too Renly didn't need to think about. Right now, he was tempted to wonder quite _why_ he loved Loras, but there was still no doubt in his mind as to whether he did or not.

“ _Actually_ love me?”

“Yes,” Renly repeated. “Why?”

Loras shrugged and looked down at the floor. “You consider leaving me very often for someone who claims to love me.”

Renly sighed wearily, letting the incriminating bag slip through his fingers onto the bed. “Loras,” he said, the name oddly reassuring on his tongue despite the circumstances. “I'm angry _because_ I love you. I'm angry because you've hidden something from me which is dangerous.”

Loras just nodded stiffly. He evidently had nothing more to say and although Renly waited in silence for more than five minutes, he just sat there awkwardly on the bed, staring down at the ground as if Renly had forbidden him from speaking.

Eventually, Renly rose. “You stay here,” he told him, “I should probably go and check on the others.”

He received no answer from Loras, only silence, and when he reached the living room, he was met again with silence. The lights were still on but the sofas now empty. Everyone had gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I'm officially back in England now; who knew moving could take so long!

You look dreadful,” was the first thing Sansa told him when Renly dragged himself into work on Monday morning.

She was right, Renly thought. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair could probably have done with a wash, and whilst he was only twenty six, he knew that he could definitely pass for the wrong side of thirty today.

“Thanks,” he retorted bitterly, although he regretted his tone the moment he saw Sansa’s face crumple. He didn’t have the energy to take it back though and he merely sighed as Sansa scurried off back to her own desk, wounded, like a tamed wolf with its tail between its legs. Quietly, she bowed her head, and whilst she evidently intended to give the impression she was working, Renly could see her sneaking worried glances at him through her hair.

“How are you?” she asked tentatively when she caught him looking. “How are things?”

Renly sighed and put his head in his hands, wondering how best to answer that question. “Not good,” he told her eventually, not quite meeting her eyes. That, Renly thought, was like telling her that the sea was ever so slightly damp, for Renly didn’t think he’d ever argued with someone as much as he’d argued with Loras in the past couple of days. Part of him doubted that Robert argued that much with Cersei.

“How do you mean?” she whispered. Confident now that she wasn't in Renly's bad books, she crept back over, pulling a chair up beside him.

Renly scrunched his eyes up briefly, wishing he didn’t have a splitting headache. “Well,” he said, massaging his temple. "You remember you told me once that according to Wikipedia, he’s a nightmare to work with?” It seemed like an age ago that they'd sat at this very desk stalking Loras' wikipedia page, and Renly wondered now whether he should have paid more attention to some of the controversy surrounding him- it would have probably served him well. 

“Yes?” Sansa questioned.

“Well I think I’ve discovered why,” Renly groaned. “Forget the betrayal, forget the fact that I’ve been lied to, never in my life have I seen anyone be more _difficult_. He won’t explain anything to me. Apparently it’s none of my business how much he takes, or how long he’s been taking it for, and his answer to bloody everything is that obviously I don’t love him anymore.” Quite honestly, it stung each time Loras accused him of that, and yet Loras seemed to be fixated on it. 

“And do you?” Sansa asked quietly, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“Do I what?”

“Love him anymore?”

Renly laughed ruefully, “I’m starting to doubt _why_ I love him,” he said dryly, “but yes I do. Trust me Sansa, if I didn’t, I’d have told him where to go already. I’ve been lied to since we started dating and he’s not even sorry for it. Granted, he’s sorry I _found out,_ but that’s where his remorse ends.” Indeed, Renly had heard excuse after excuse, had listened as Loras told him that he’d never thought it an issue- that surely Renly would have done exactly the same if he had had to choose between constant jet lag and what Loras called ‘getting a little help’- but he’d yet to hear one single apology. 

“Have you told him to stop?” Sansa whispered, her eyes wide.

“What do you think?” Renly asked, rolling his eyes. “But he just won’t see sense. He claims he’s not addicted, that what he does isn’t a problem, but then he’ll tell me five minutes later that the only reason he does it is because he’d be exhausted without it, that it isn’t even for the high. But to me, if you’re reliant on it to get anything done, you’re most certainly addicted.”

“So you think he’s lying?”

Renly laughed bitterly. “Of course he’s lying. But whether he’s lying to me or to himself is the question.” He sighed. “To me, _I won’t stop_ means _I can’t stop_. And he’s too proud to admit it. He won’t let me help him.”

“Can’t you try a crueller approach then?”

“You believe it I have,” Renly said. “I’ve told him I’ll leave him if he doesn’t stop.” 

“And he doesn’t care?” She seemed unconvinced.

“Oh he cares,” Renly laughed wryly, “The idea terrifies him. But I think the idea of going clean terrifies him even more.”

Loras had vehemently denied it, but Renly wondered now whether Loras had been trying to kick his own habit a few weeks ago, shortly before he’d had the audacity to start throwing things at him in his kitchen. Renly had thought him ill at the time- he’d been so uncharacteristically exhausted- and yet now Renly was beginning to wonder if instead he’d got a glimpse of what Loras was like without the cocaine that kept him going. If he was right, that attempt had obviously ended in failure and Renly thought that would go some way to explaining why he was putting up such a fuss now. He knew Loras well and he knew that the boy would rather lie to himself a thousand times over than admit failure.

Sighing, he resisted the urge to bang his head against his desk. “I don’t know what to do Sansa,” he admitted. “I can’t help him until he swallows his pride and lets me. I can’t make him give up if he doesn’t want to even try. And all I’ve done this weekend is send him into hiding. He’s paranoid that I’m keeping tabs on him.”

“Which you are?” Sansa breathed, fixing him with her piercing blue eyes. “Aren’t you?”

“Which I am,” Renly agreed. He sighed. “And I know that it’s mean, but I’ve taken his keys away too. That way I can search his pockets before he comes back in.”

Sansa raised her eyes in surprise at that and Renly couldn't blame her. Loras had been furious when Renly had taken his keys away from him, and in spite of his disappointment in him, Renly couldn’t deny that he’d felt a little guilty as he’d pried the metal out of Loras’ hands. He could still remember how glad Loras had been to move in with him, how thrilled he'd been that Renly’s bedroom was going to be _their_ bedroom, theirs to share. He’d been given his own space for his clothes and a brand new shiny key that had been copied just for him, and Renly had never seen him look more proud. Desperate times called for desperate measures though, Renly supposed, and this way at least, he could know that Loras was clean whilst at home.

“Does it work?” Sansa asked softly.

“No,” Renly laughed. “He just goes out and stays out.”

It had been late on Friday night that Renly had confiscated his keys and predictably, Loras had stalked off in a sulk with the humiliation of it all. He'd spent the night god knows where, only to reappear the next morning. They'd spent the day at each other’s throats before he’d stormed off once again, convinced apparently that Renly didn’t love him anymore at all. He wouldn't be coming back, he'd told Renly vehemently as he'd slammed the door behind him. Unsurprisingly, Renly had found him outside on Sunday morning all the same, and he’d slunk in like a cat as soon as Renly had opened the door. They’d only made it to lunchtime that time, and although Renly had sent him several texts telling him to come home, he'd been met with silence and Loras still hadn't reappeared by the time Renly had left for work this morning.

“Where is he now?” Sansa whispered as if she were reading his thoughts.

“I’ve no idea,” Renly admitted quietly. He bit back a sigh. Although Loras could do with a sharp slap about the face at the moment, the thought of him out all night by himself upset Renly all the same. He’d have been informed by the tabloids if he’d been out wandering or if he’d chosen to drown his sorrows at a glitzy night club with his own kind, and yet the idea of him brooding alone in a hotel room wasn’t pleasant either.

“Are you going to go out and look for him?” she asked, fiddling with her hair a little wistfully. No doubt she thought the idea of trailing across London in search of someone was a romantic notion and Renly wondered if she was picturing Loras sitting in one of the city's towers, growing his curly hair so that Renly could come and rescue him. 

“What’s the point?” Renly sighed though. “It’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack. If the paparazzi don't happen to know where he is, there's fuck all chance of me finding him."

Sansa laughed nervously. “You could send Sandor out for him,” she suggested. “He’s used to finding people who don’t want to be found.”

Renly laughed. Known as the Hound, Renly had no doubt that Joffrey’s dog would be able to sniff Loras out if he put his mind to it. He was also aware though that Sandor Clegane was usually contracted to beat up those he found, and the idea of that brute of a man going anywhere near Loras upset him almost as much as the idea of him going anywhere near Sansa did.

“Thanks but no thanks," Renly said to her. "He’ll reappear when he’s ready,” 

 

* * *

 

He wasn’t wrong. Loras was waiting for him outside when he came back from work, parked in a black cab with tinted windows so that the press wouldn’t be able to get photos of him. He wasn’t scowling as he got out of the car- he was too used to having cameras shoved in his face for that- but there was no hint of a smile either.

“Am I allowed in?” he asked tightly once he’d caught Renly up with his long strides.

Renly merely sighed. It would have been nice, he thought, for Loras to have greeted him, but expecting anything of Loras right now was like expecting Sansa to go into a shoe shop and not buy anything. Two could play at that game though, Renly thought bitterly, and ignoring him, he unlocked the door in silence. They entered as if they were strangers, Renly looking miserably down at the floor and Loras with his nose in the air as they climbed the stairs one after the other.

Loras tried to slink past him once they reached the top and Renly put his arm across the doorway, blocking his entrance.

“Empty your pockets first,” he said firmly.

Loras glared at him. Seething silently, he turned the silk lining of his jacket inside out and pushed the contents forcefully into Renly’s hands one by one until both the left pocket and the right pocket was satisfactorily empty.

Renly inspected each item in turn. He was diligent, and he’d never felt more like Stannis as he examined each and every fold in Loras’ wallet, even rifling through his tin of tobacco to check nothing was mixed with it. He did have to wonder though, if his efforts were in vain. It would be all too easy for Loras to have a small bag of something sewn inside the lining of his jacket or slipped inside the hem of his jeans. He could even have pinned it in his hair out of view. 

“And your jeans ones too," he insisted anyway.

Loras scowled and thrust his hands into his jeans, turning those pockets too inside out to show Renly that they were empty.

“Shoes too.”

Eyes narrowed, Loras kicked off his shoes as he was bid, though Renly got the feeling it was him that Loras would rather have been kicking. Turning them upside down, he shook them violently in Renly’s face to prove that they were empty. His face twisted into a grimace, he then unbuttoned his shirt and pulled down his jeans, stripping down until he was standing stark naked.

“ _Happy now?_ ” he hissed venomously.

“You’re being ridiculous," Renly said evenly, trying not to set him off further. 

“ _Am I?_ " Leaving his clothes in a huddle on the floor, Loras tried to push past Renly, ducking under his arm when that didn’t work. “ _Want to make sure I haven’t shoved a packet of coke up my arse too?”_ he spat as he walked naked and unashamed down the hallway, the door to their bedroom slamming behind him.

The walls still shaking, Renly sank down onto the top step. Never before had he felt more helpless and he put his head in his hands wearily as he contemplated what he should do. The greater part of him felt that if he cared for Loras at all, he had a duty to force him to do the right thing, even if that meant being cruel to be kind, and yet the more he pushed, the more Loras recoiled, and that upset him just as much as the initial betrayal had done.

He sat there for a few more minutes before chasing after him. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door. 

“Loras,” he called softly. “Can I come in?”

“Course you bloody can,” Loras snapped from inside. “This is your flat. I may pay rent but it’s not like I have a key to it or anything.”

Renly sighed as he pushed open the door, disappointed to see that Loras was still in a foul mood. “Fair,” he said. “You can stop paying rent if you like.”

Loras just snorted from where he was sat on the bed, still naked. He didn't bother to point it out but Renly knew both of them were thinking that the few thousand he put into Renly's account every month was negligible when one was as rich as Loras was. Loras would spend twice as much on one item of clothing as he would on a month's rent.

Taking a deep breath, Renly sat down beside him.  “Come on Loras," he implored, "won’t you see, I’m trying to help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” Loras snarled, folding his arms over his bare chest and turning his face away insolently. “I don’t _need_ your help. It’s my body and my life and I’ll do whatever I damn well like.”

“Then you don’t want us to stay together then?” Renly asked wearily. He was tired of the threat and he'd repeated it so many times now that even he himself was beginning to doubt that he'd ever have it in him to follow through with it. He was pleased to see though that it still had the desired effect on Loras.

He whipped round to look at him. “I didn’t say that,” Loras said quickly. “I just want you to accept me for who I am and what I do.”

“Cocaine is not part of who you are,” Renly pointed out evenly. 

Loras shrugged. “I was doing it when you allegedly fell in love with me.”

Renly ignored the jibe. He looked Loras up and down. Quite honestly, Loras looked ridiculous. Sat on the bed with his legs crossed, his arms folded across his slim naked frame, and his limp cock between his legs, Renly didn't think he was capable of taking Loras particularly seriously. “Just go put some clothes on,” he muttered. 

Loras’ face was suddenly mocking again. “No sex for me then?” he asked sweetly, “Will I not be allowed that either?”

Renly shrugged. “Not until you agree to let me help you no,” 

Loras scowled at that. “Like I wanted to have sex with you anyway,” he hissed. He was almost believable, but his mask wasn’t quite perfect, Renly thought. Behind the anger, Loras looked ever so slightly like he was going to cry, and Renly knew that he was desperate to be touched and cosseted and loved like he usually was. That, after all, was what Loras lived for. For all his stubbornness and his arrogance and his pride, even now it was clear that he was going through his day desperate for a kind word from Renly, or a quick kiss, something that would make him feel loved.

That though, Renly supposed, was his leverage, and he patted Loras on the arm before leaving him in peace to reflect.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras didn’t venture out of their bedroom all evening and he was still there by the time Renly decided to turn in for the night. He’d dressed for bed in his absence, in pyjamas Renly hadn't known he owned, and whist Renly was surprised that Loras had evidently decided to stay home tonight, he was even more surprised to see that he’d put his own clothes on for once. It spoke volumes, Renly thought. Loras evidently didn’t feel secure enough to help himself to Renly’s things as he usually did.

They didn’t speak as Renly got into bed, and for once they lay on separate sides of the bed, a chasm between them. As soon as the light was off though, Renly had to sigh as Loras evidently inched closer, the sheets rustling as he moved.

Eventually, he was close enough to nuzzle Renly’s shoulder and almost defiantly, he tucked his head under Renly’s chin like he usually did, as if daring Renly to deny him.

Quite honestly, it felt nice, comforting, reassuring and so wonderfully _normal,_ and yet Renly pushed him gently away. He needed to make that clear, he supposed- that Loras would get absolutely no affection from him until he agreed to change his ways. Trying to look on the bright side though, Renly supposed that it meant he'd be spared the usual discomfort of having a skinny mass of sharp elbows and knees attempt to curl up against him all night.

Loras hissed like a cat thrown into water as Renly nudged him back over to his side. “ _Why?_ ” he whined.

“Will you agree to give up cocaine?”

“No,” was the snapped response.

“Then that’s why.” Renly rolled over pointedly, turning his back on him. The tension was unbearable and sure enough, Loras tried again only after a few uncomfortably silent minutes, this time his arms winding themselves around Renly’s waist as he pushed himself up against his back.

Renly thought he was doing it to annoy him but when he glanced behind, Loras’ face wasn’t mocking. Possible to make out even in the darkness, Loras’ expression was an odd mix of stubbornness and desperation. He wanted to be close; he needed to be close even. It was pitiful to see and Renly could only be glad that Loras still had enough of his pride intact not to cry; otherwise Renly's resolve really would have wavered and he'd have probably spent the evening making love to him.

“I said no,” Renly sighed “Now, give me some space.”

Loras duly rolled over to his side of the bed with a scowl and Renly could feel him watching him. His eyes bored into him and despite himself, Renly could feel nothing but guilt. Part of him, a very large part of him now, wanted to ignore the fact that Loras needed an incentive to change and to take him in his arms anyway. He was only twenty one and Renly could see he was distressed. Regardless of the fact that he knew Loras deserved being given the cold shoulder and more, that upset Renly to see.

It was reluctantly that he forced himself to stay put and not go to him, and yet still, he couldn’t relax.

“I can’t sleep with you watching me,” he muttered eventually.

There was a little shuffling. “I’ll go sleep on the sofa then,” Loras said bitterly. “After all, it’s not like this is my home anymore is it?”

He shut the door loudly behind him and once more, Renly was left wondering whether he should chase after him.


	16. Chapter 16

_Loras Tyrell nails off-duty style in jeans and a leather jacket as he cosies up to female co-star from Venice shoot. The 21-year-old looked carefree as the pair took together to the canals, no doubt adding weight to the rumours that his seven month relationship with London lawyer Renly Baratheon has lost its shine._

Renly put the magazine down irritably. He’d been quite relieved when Loras had told him that he’d be spending a week in Italy- if only because it would give them a little respite from the constant arguing- and yet seeing Loras frolicking with some girl in a gondola pissed him off a little. One would have thought that Loras would have enough grace to at least look a little subdued about the fact that he and Renly hadn’t shared a bed for a week, but it appeared Renly had been wrong.

He was still a little irritated about it when Sansa called.

“Hi Renly,” she said when he picked up, her voice tinkling like a bell, “Loras back yet?”

“No,” he told her. “Tonight. Why?” The thought made him feel a little weary. There would have been a time where he’d have been watching the clock waiting for him to get back but now he knew all too well that in all likelihood, they’d merely have a few heated arguments before he’d retire to bed and Loras would stomp into the living room to spend the night alone on the sofa.

“I was just asking,” she said quietly. “I wanted to know really if you can cover for me tomorrow? I’m going to another casting call and it’s annoyingly just when Stannis does his rounds, and he’ll be furious if he notices me skiving.”

Her words made Renly’s heart sink, and not only because fooling Stannis into thinking that Sansa had gone on an extended errand for him was a very daunting prospect. He’d completely forgotten that Sansa had been going to casting calls at all, and whilst she’d spent the past week consoling him over Loras, he hadn’t even thought to ask how she had got on at the agencies. He felt suddenly awful, a terrible friend.

“Of course I’ll cover for you,” he told her hurriedly, pacing up and down his kitchen as he pressed his phone to his ear. “And I’m so sorry Sansa. It completely slipped my mind that you were going to see the agencies. How did the first one go? It was last Monday right? I can't believe I forgot.”

“Don't worry about it,” she said, “You’ve had bigger things to worry about really. But yeah, it was fine. They didn’t take me, apparently I’m too classically beautiful and they were looking for edgy, but they were really nice and recommended this other agency which is the one I’m going to see tomorrow.”

“Great,” Renly said, doing his best to sound enthusiastic. “Well I’m sure tomorrow’s agency will be better.” He supposed he should have known that Sansa would be too pretty to appeal to high fashion. When models like Cara Delevigne were the most sought after in London, it should have gone unsaid that Sansa, with her delicate features and soft auburn hair, would clearly be more suited to a renaissance painting than a runway.

“And you’re sure you can fool Stannis?” she asked. She sounded a little nervous. 

“I’ll find something to tell Stannis,” Renly laughed. “Or maybe I’ll ask Loras, he’s our current resident expert on elaborate lies.”

He was met with silence on Sansa’s end and he sighed, rubbing his temple. He knew what silence meant.

“You think I’m being mean don’t you?” He sank down wearily onto a kitchen chair.

A pause. “I don’t think you’re being _unfair_ ,” she said eventually, very evenly, “But I don’t think your approach is getting you anywhere, you know, with the searching his pockets all the time and refusing to touch him. He’s really upset, you can tell.”

Renly wished he could have seen her face. There was so little he could tell over the phone. “How would you know?” he asked, a little put out. Sansa, of course, knew Loras rather poorly; she only knew what Renly told her. 

Another pause.

Renly groaned and switched ears with the phone. “Don’t tell me you and him have been getting together behind my back.” He felt suddenly undermined, betrayed even, because he’d always counted on Sansa being entirely on his side.

“ _He_ phoned _me_ ,” she said hurriedly. “Before he went to Italy. It was these casting calls, he wanted to know how I’d got on, and it was only a brief conversation. But anyway, Loras Tyrell. He didn’t mention anything, but he sounded dreadful Renly, really down.”

Renly sighed heavily. “It’s not like I enjoy making him miserable, Sansa. But if I’m all sweetness and smiles with him then he’ll have no incentive to change.” He was beginning to wonder now if he was the only one who understood the concept of what he was trying to achieve with Loras.

“Just be a bit kinder with him will you.”

“Sure,” Renly sighed, just to appease her really. “I can try I guess.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was well into the night by the time Loras came home and Renly only woke up long enough to let him in and have him empty his pockets before he crawled back into bed. He had no recollection of Loras joining him- he’d assumed that he’d likely spent a few sleepless hours on the sofa as usual- but to Renly’s surprise, he was sat in the kitchen when Renly came down for work at the tender hour of 7:30am. A black coffee in front of him, he looked up when Renly came in, watching as Renly slung his jacket and tie over the backs of one of the chairs.

“You’re up early,” Renly commented as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Indeed, it didn’t even appear as if Loras had gone to bed. His curls were unrumpled, tidy even, and he was fully dressed. Seeing as his clothes were in Renly's room, it was quite possibly that those were the clothes he'd flown in. 

Loras just shrugged. He had his ipad in front of him and it seemed to have most of his attention.

Renly let him get on with it and set himself to the arduous task of putting bread in the toaster instead, knowing better than to try and force a stonily silent Loras to talk. Indeed, he’d progressed to spreading marmalade generously onto his four freshly-grilled slices of toast by the time Loras deigned to speak, sighing and pushing his ipad across the table towards him.

“The mock up for Baelish Online tomorrow," he explained, "They’ve asked me to comment.”

Renly duly sat down to read. Unsurprisingly, it seemed a continuation of the speculation that had been in their last issue.

_Loras Tyrell unlucky in love AGAIN as sources reveal his relationship with twenty six-year-old Renly Baratheon is on the rocks. The star looked tired and washed out as he boarded a plane at Venice’s Marco Polo airport yesterday evening amid claims that the couple are on the verge of going separate ways_.

There was more, a lot more, but Renly didn’t feel the need to read any further. He handed the ipad back to Loras wearily.

“What should I say?” Loras asked. It was only then that Renly noticed how tired Loras looked. _Baelish_ was right. Loras did look washed-out. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair seemed to have lost all of its shine. Judging from how cheerful he'd looked wandering around Venice in pictures taken a mere few days earlier, Renly had to wonder if it was the thought of coming home to him that had worn Loras out so. 

All the same, he shrugged and took a bite of his toast. “Well what do you want to say?”

“Well I want to deny the rumours Ren,” he said softly. “But I can’t really do that if they’re true.”

Renly sighed and put his toast back on its plate. “Well they are true,” he told him reluctantly. “Our relationship _is_ on the rocks.” It was a hard truth, he supposed, but one that he couldn’t deny. He couldn't even remember the last time they'd had a conversation that even bordered on civil. Quite possibly, it had been when Loras had told him he was going to Venice for a few days, and even then they'd probably only managed civility because a temporary cease-fire had been in sight.

“And the splitting up part?” Loras asked quietly. 

“I don’t know Loras.”

“But we’re doing the best to patch things up right?” Looking up at him almost hopefully, Loras placed his hand on top of Renly’s. It was quite possibly the first gentle touch they’d shared in weeks and it felt quite strange.

“Are we?” Renly asked. “As far as I was concerned, you weren’t even _pretending_ to try and give up for me.” He laughed hollowly, picking his toast back up and munching on it. “If you had any wits about you, you’d at least pretend.”

Loras glared at him and quickly withdrew his hand. “Well we can’t all be Cambridge graduates,” he hissed.

Renly laughed. “True, and maybe if you’d gone to school for a little longer you’d have been smart enough to see why cocaine is a bad idea.” He was four and a half years older than Loras and he still remembered as clearly as day all the talks and assemblies they'd sat through where they'd had it drilled into them that drugs were bad. He could remember doing presentations on it and watching documentaries intended to scare them into not trying cannabis ever, as clearly, it was a gateway drug and they'd all be heroin addicts within the afternoon. 

Loras was scowling when he next looked up. “Well if you’ve thoroughly enjoyed making me feel inferior, can we return to the subject of us?”

Renly sighed. He supposed his quips had been a little childish. Loras, he guessed, didn't need to be reminded that he was less educated even than the bigots who would mindlessly be voting UKIP in the next general election. “Yes Loras," he agreed, "we can.”

“You do _want_ to patch things up don’t you?” Loras asked, and Renly feared that he was going to accuse him once more of not loving him. He was glad when he desisted, merely sipping his black coffee instead as he waited for Renly to answer.

“Of course I want to patch things up," Renly told him, "but we can’t even begin to do that until you agr-”

Loras cut him off. “Please,” he said wearily. “Just please, today can we not argue?”

“What do you want to do instead then?” Renly asked with a rueful laugh. Standing up, he pulled open the dishwasher door to put his plate in.

Loras lifted his head up. “Well, not now obviously, but I had been hoping we might…?”

“Might what?”

“That we might, you know, sleep in the same bed tonight Renly, have sex maybe if the idea isn’t so ludicrous to you.” His tone was mild but there was a thinly veiled misery there that made Renly wonder if he was finally getting somewhere. Indeed, Loras was looking up at him with an almost doleful expression that suited him ill. Loras was getting desperate.

“I told you,” Renly sighed, picking his tie up from where he’d slung it over the back of his chair. “You agree to give up and I’ll give you all the sex you like.”

“But t’s been so long Ren,” Loras protested. “It’s been over a fortnight since you’ve even kissed me, and it would be good for us, to reconnect and everything.” He chanced a very small smile. “You might actually remember why you like me.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I still like you Loras, love you even, but the answer’s no, Loras.”

“Then can we just have one night of normality then?” Standing, he made to do Renly’s tie up for him, nimble fingers creating an effortless dimple in the fabric that some men would have spent hours achieving. “We could get a take away and watch a film in bed, or we could go out if you’d rather? There’s this new restaurant that I know you’d really l-”

“No.” It came out harsher than Renly intended.

Loras dropped his hands awkwardly from where he’d been folding Renly’s collar down for him. “And you just said we were trying to patch things up,” he said quietly. He jutted his chin up defiantly. “Do I repulse you or something?” 

“No,” Renly sighed, shrugging his jacket on. “I’m just trying to give you an incentive to see sense. You know that old saying about the donkey, the carrot and the stick. Well this is your carrot.”

“I’m the donkey then?” Loras asked dryly.

Renly laughed bitterly and kissed him on the head. “You’re stubborn enough to be one,” he said. It was true, he thought. He’d always thought that Stannis was the most stubborn a man could be, and then he’d met Loras, more stubborn than any donkey. Even with the threat of being left as his stick and boundless affection as his carrot, Loras was a donkey that refused to move even an inch.

Loras ignored him though and merely stood up on his tip-toes. “Just a kiss then?” he asked.

“I just gave you one.”

“On the head doesn’t count,” Loras protested. He looped his hands around Renly’s waist, pulling him back to him. “Just one, a kiss goodbye, like you always used to give me when you went off to work. I liked that, it was nice.”

Renly pushed him off him. “If you’re so desperate for a kiss why don’t you give up cocaine for me?”

Loras just sighed as he sat back down, the legs of his chair scraping offensively against the floor. “I want the old days back,”

“What do you mean?” Renly asked wearily.

“Back when you thought you were the luckiest man alive to be dating me,” Loras said, looking up with an almost defeated expression etched upon his face. “You’d open the door and not quite believe I was there. You’d drag me upstairs to bed and kiss me three times a minute as if you weren’t sure I was real.” He scowled, pushing his hair off his face. “And now I have to wait outside for you to come back because I’m not allowed my own keys, I’m banished from your bed, I have to earn my kisses.” His chin jutted out once more, Renly wondered if he was going to cry. “I used to feel so special Renly and now I’ve never felt so alone.”

Renly almost groaned. Loras’ words made him feel terrible but he wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up as the bad guy here. “I’m trying to help you Loras,”

“By pushing me away.” Loras protested. “Loras isn’t allowed kisses, or hugs, or affection, because he’s been bad. Is that how it’s going to be? Are you going to make me sit on the naughty step?”

Renly gritted his teeth, glancing at his watch. He still had a little time and as long as he was in before Stannis did his rounds nobody would notice his absence. “Go on then,” he said reluctantly, “If that’s what you want so much, I’ll take you upstairs and we’ll have sex. Think of it as a peace offering. A one time thing that'll remind you what you're missing. ”

“ _Go on then?_ ” Loras echoed his own words back to him. He slumped back against his chair. “You really know how to make me feel special don’t you?”

Renly bit back a sigh and extended a hand to him. He was a little surprised when Loras accepted it, letting Renly pull him to his feet. “You know Loras,” he said, “that feeling you’re talking about- me thinking I was the luckiest man alive to be dating you- I love you Loras, I really do, but that feeling, that euphoria, it tends to only exist at the beginning of a relationship. When it’s new, when it’s exciting.” It felt awful telling Loras that, like telling a child that Santa Claus didn’t exist, but he supposed he had to hear it. The honeymoon stage of a relationship could never last forever.

Loras nodded sadly, refusing to let go of Renly’s hand even when he was on his feet. “But I still feel it,” he whispered “When you touch me, when you kiss me,” He paused. “When you _used_ to touch me and _used_ to kiss me. I used to feel that euphoria. I was quite sure that I was the luckiest man alive.”

The sad thing was that Renly didn’t doubt him. He might have made some quip then about how if Loras thought he was the luckiest man alive to be dating him, then he was certainly doing a poor job in his attempts to keep him, but he bit his words back, mindful of what Sansa had asked of him. Indeed, it was with her pleas to be kinder with him ringing in his ears that he led him into the living room.

Heavily, he sat down on the sofa and patted the spot beside him. “Come here then,” he sighed, feeling far too much like a brick wall crumbling. He was unsurprised that Loras seized the opportunity with both hands, and he was practically on Renly’s lap within seconds, his arms around his neck, clinging to him. He was creasing Renly’s suit and yet Renly had to admit it felt good. It had been weeks since they’d been close like this and it was almost enough to make him relent entirely and give Loras that day of normality he’d almost begged for. It would be against all his principles, but the thought of curling up with Loras in bed with a take away and simply forgetting their problems for a night was a very tempting one.

Neither of them said anything, and Renly got the feeling that Loras was savouring the few minutes of contact he was being allowed. He’d pushed his face into the crook of Renly’s neck almost defiantly and his arms were wrapped around him so tightly that Renly thought he might never let him go. This was dangerous, Renly thought. When Loras was pressing himself desperately against him, when he was sweet and adoring like this, it was so easy to forget the betrayal and six months of lies.

“You know what upset me the most?” Renly sighed into his hair. “The fact that you never told me, that you lied.”

Loras raised his head. “I didn’t _lie_ , Ren,” he protested, “I never told you I _didn’t_ take-“

Renly cut him off with a laugh. “Nice try Loras,” he retorted dryly. “But I wouldn’t try that angle with a lawyer. Lying by omission is definitely a thing.” He tucked one of Loras’ curls behind his ear. “So why, Loras? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Loras frowned, anxiety knitting across his forehead. “What does it matter why?”

“Because I’ve never felt more betrayed. You lied to me. And I want to know why?”

“Why?” Loras pushed his hair off his face and looked a little desperate. It was almost pitiful to see.

“Yes, why.” Renly repeated, shifting Loras off his lap to sit next to him. He supposed this was a nice compromise. Loras had had his few minutes of affection and perhaps it would serve as a reminder of exactly what he had to lose.

“Isn’t it obvious why?”

Renly shook his head.

Loras looked up at him a little sadly. He looked a lot less comfortable now that he was no longer in Renly’s arms. “Because I wanted you to love me Renly,” he whispered. “Is that so very terrible? I met a glorious man, handsome, educated, who wanted more from me than just a quick shag with a celebrity, and I looked at him and wanted him to love me.”

Renly paused at that. The words were sweet and he looked so miserable that Renly almost reached out to pull him to him again. “I’d have loved you all the same,” he breathed.

“Really?” Loras didn’t seem convinced, and he fidgeted restlessly with his hands. “Do you actually mean that?”

Renly paused, forcing himself to think about it. It was uncomfortable to admit, even to himself, but he supposed that he’d told Loras he would have loved him all the same because it was the only acceptable thing he _could_ say, not because he particularly meant it. He’d have slept with him certainly, but if he’d known at the beginning what he knew now, taking things further would have without a doubt been avoided like the plague. There would have been no second, third or fourth dates to fall in love with him on, and Renly knew that Loras would have been no more than the source of a very amusing anecdote where he got to tell people that he’d had sex with a supermodel and that said supermodel hadn’t been any good.

He sighed deeply. “Well no. I guess I wouldn’t have loved you if I’d known.”

Loras’ eyes filled with bitter tears that didn’t quite fall. “See. I told you so.”

“But that’s not the point, Loras.” Personally, Renly couldn’t see why simply not using Class A drugs wouldn’t have been a better option than lying to him so that he’d be interested in dating him. 

“It is the point,” Loras protested, perching himself precariously on the edge of sofa as he evidently tried not to cry. “I lied because I loved you and because I didn’t want to lose you, like how I’m about to lose you now.”

Renly sighed and tried to think clearly. It would have been easier if he hadn’t been almost half an hour late for work already. “Look,” he breathed. “We’ll talk everything through properly tonight, when I’m not supposed to be in the office.”

“All right.” Loras whispered hoarsely, and forcefully almost, he tucked himself under Renly’s arm as close as he could get. “Just don’t leave me Renly,”

“I won’t if you're sensible,” Renly told him with a sigh. “You know my terms.”

“And if I don’t stop?” Loras breathed. “You’re not actually going to leave me are you? You don’t mean all these horrible ultimatums you’ve given me do you?”

He did mean them, and Renly just wished Loras would accept that. “It’s not something I’m willing to compromise on,” he said firmly.

“Even though you love me?”

“Even though I love you.” Renly repeated.

Loras pressed himself closer. “You told me once that you’d love me no matter what,” he breathed.

“I know I did.” Renly admitted. He even remembered saying it. They’d been in bed together and Loras had been so delighted by his words. 

“Did you not mean it then?”

“Yes, I did mean it,” Renly began to say before he realised that that too would be a lie. “I guess I didn’t,” he whispered, thoroughly ashamed. It had been empty words he’d said really, promises one made when they didn’t think they’d ever have to follow through on them. Taking the promise back hurt somehow, made his conscience ache guiltily as if he'd just taken out a gun and shot Loras.

Indeed, Loras pulled Renly’s arms around him even more tightly and Renly could see he was working through that revelation with difficultly. He looked defeated, worn out, and he didn’t seem to know what to say. His eyes were still swimming with tears that he seemed ashamed of, and angrily almost, he reached to wipe them away with his sleeve. “I meant it when I said it back,” he told him vehemently. That was all he could seemingly summon.

“I know you did,” Renly soothed. Wearily, he stroked Loras’ hair off his face, regardless of the fact that he’d decided minutes earlier that Loras had had enough affection for the day. Sansa perhaps would have been proud of him; he’d been more kind with him than Loras deserved.

“I’ll tell you what I did mean though,” he said eventually. “Whether we’re together, or whether we’re just friends, I’m always going to be here if you need me. Does that comfort you?”

Loras just sniffed into his shoulder. Evidently not.


	17. Chapter 17

Renly was only an hour late to work, and with the skill that only someone who had grown up sneaking in and out from under Stannis' roof could have had, he managed to sidle in without anyone but Brienne noticing, arriving just in time to convince the man himself that Sansa was certainly buried in the British Library researching an obscure legal term for him rather than off strutting nervously in front of a panel of modelling agents.

He sat wearily back in his chair as soon as Stannis' back was turned. Really, being late in and with a pile of papers detailing exactly how Robert had chosen to act illegally this week in front of him, Renly supposed he ought to have knuckled down. He couldn’t bring himself to do so though and he found himself merely staring blankly at his screen, the words typed there blurring together like the jargon it was. Despite his angry attempts to hide it, Loras had cried as Renly had left for work and it had near broken his heart to see his tears. Renly had told him that they would talk later, and yet, quite honestly, Renly had no idea what he wanted to say. It was clear that the approach he’d taken so far wasn’t working and yet he had no clue what else to do. Loras refused to let him help him, refused to explain anything to him, and he certainly refused to take any ultimatum Renly gave him seriously.

After an unproductive quarter of an hour, he gave up trying to work at all, his head swimming still with images of Loras looking miserable. Sighing and looking over his shoulder to check nobody was lurking outside the door, he punched _Cocaine Addiction_ into Google and spent a good hour reading about other people whose boyfriends or girlfriends had had similar problems. Most were unhelpful- forums full of bitterness where the overwhelming advice was _“walk away_ ”. There were a few good links though and within half an hour, he found himself looking at rehabilitation centres. Loras would never go willingly, but he wondered perhaps if there would be some fancy version that might suit him, maybe one which they could attend together. He was not disappointed, and whilst mostly American, he browsed through centres which were more like holiday resorts than what he thought of as rehab. There were ones with swimming pools, saunas, yoga classes, and a few even had private beaches. More importantly though, most offered sessions with confidential advice that both the potential patient and his loved ones could attend together.

It was hard to admit that he needed help in dealing with Loras, and yet Renly wondered if Loras might listen to an expert where he ignored him. This time though, Renly thought he would try a different tack in persuading Loras to go. Sansa, he thought, would be proud of him and tentatively, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialled Loras' number.

Loras answered on the first ring. “Renly?” he asked. He seemed stunned to have been called, and indeed, Renly couldn’t remember the last time either of them had rung the other. Usually they merely exchanged passive aggressive texts nowadays.

“Hey Loras,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual. “I was just thinking, you know about what you asked me this morning. You wanted to spend the evening together, get take-away maybe, choose a film.” Sex had been on that list too, but even with the door to his office closed and Sansa out, Renly thought he might gloss over that on whilst at work.

“Yes,” Loras sounded a little wary. “But you wanted to talk instead right?”

“Well yeah,” Renly agreed, fiddling with the pen on his desk. “But I’ve reconsidered. We’ll have that evening in together if you want.” He chanced a small laugh. “As long as I get to choose what food we order in."

“Sure Renly, anything you like.” There was barely concealed excitement in Loras' voice and it was somehow reassuring to Renly's ears. He'd had weeks now of hearing Loras sound either miserable or angry. This was a nice change.

“But I was thinking that we should still talk," Renly pressed gently. "I had a few things I wanted to bring up with you. You know, things we could talk through calmly together. Could you be home by like seven?”

“Yes.” Loras was silent for a little while. “ But this is the catch isn’t it?”

“It’s not a catch Loras,” Renly sighed. “You surely can’t deny that we need to agree on something. We can't go on like this and I was just looking at some places on the internet, you know, places where we could go to get a little help.”

“I don’t need help," was Loras' response, and really he was beginning to sound like a broken record. Renly didn't have enough fingers or toes to count how many times he'd heard Loras tell him that he didn't need help.

“If you say so Loras,” Renly said wearily. “But I do. Really, it would just put my mind at ease if we just saw an expert about it, or maybe if you spent a week or so somewhere.”

“You want me to go to rehab,” Loras said bluntly. It wasn’t a question.

“Well,” Renly said gently, knowing he was skating on very thin ice here. “We’re not getting anywhere by ourselves, that much is clear. I thought this might be bett-“

“I’m not going.” Loras snapped.

“Well we could talk about that ton-“

Loras had already hung up.

 

* * *

 

 

Predictably, Sansa's few hours off turned into a whole day off, and Renly didn't think he'd ever passed a lonelier day when he returned home to find that Loras too was nowhere to be seen, apparently having taken back his assurances that he could be home by seven. Renly was hardly surprised- Loras' tone earlier had warned him that Loras might well make himself scarce this evening- and yet he'd held out hope that he might have calmed down as the day went on. it had been this with mind that Renly had printed out a whole book's worth of leaflets on rehabilitation programmes, even spending his lunch break going through them with a big yellow pen and highlighting the ones which they'd be able to attend together.

When the clock chimed nine and Loras still wasn't home, Renly ordered a take-away anyway. He ate it alone in bed, a spare plate on the side, still hopeful that Loras might turn up, if only so that they could discuss how they were going to move forward. The hours ticked by all the same though, and Renly had eaten enough pizza for two by the time that he turned in for bed.

It was half past four in the morning when Loras knocked on the door and whilst Renly could barely find the energy to open his eyes, he had just enough of his wits about him to see that Loras was clearly intoxicated, leaning dizzily against the door when Renly opened it. He handed Renly his jacket immediately and merely smiled at him whilst Renly half-heartedly emptied the pockets.

All of Loras' things clutched in his hands to be examined when he had better light, Renly almost groaned as he beckoned Loras up the stairs. “Drunk or high?” he asked, exasperated.

Loras shrugged cheerfully, reaching out blindly for Renly's hand. “I don’t actually remember. Probably both.” He frowned then and tried to follow up the stairs. “I take it back,” he laughed as he stumbled a little. “Definitely only drunk.”

Renly just sighed, thoroughly defeated. “You said you were going to be home hours ago.”

Loras lost all of his good humour instantly. “Ah yes," he said sharply, turning to glare at Renly on the stairs. "So you could ship me off to some clinic wasn’t it?" He grimaced. "Well I don’t think so Renly.”

Renly gritted his teeth, depositing all of Loras' things on the living room table and flicking on the lamp. “I wasn’t going to _ship you off_. I was hoping we could have a reasonable conversation about it, that you might let me try to understand you, that we could talk.”

“Well I’m here now,” Loras sat down unsteadily on the sofa. “Let's talk.”

Renly could have pointed out that it was now twenty to five in the morning, or that both of them should probably be in bed, but he didn't. If Loras wanted to talk then they would talk. "Fine," he said quietly, sitting down on a chair a little way away from Loras. "But I think you should sober up first,”

Loras smirked at him. “Sure,” he said. “Just give me a moment then.” He stumbled out of the room. He was gone a few minutes before he returned, a freshly rolled cigarette in between his fingers. “Can you chuck me my lighter?” he asked, gesturing to the pile of stuff on the coffee table that had moments earlier been in his pockets.

“I’d really rather you didn’t smoke inside,” Renly muttered.

“Just chuck me the bloody lighter Ren,”

Renly chucked it to him, a little wary. He supposed that this was of his own doing. Loras had seemed in quite a reasonable mood this morning and yet now, there was quiet fury brimming underneath Loras' rather calm façade, all put there by the mere mention that he might want to see someone.

“You wanted me to sober up," Loras laughed, "well this will sober me up.” With clumsy fingers, he lit it.

It was only then that Renly cottoned on. “ _Don’t you dare,_ ” he hissed. “If there’s anything other than tobacco in that cigarette, you can find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

Loras didn't seem particularly fazed. “I thought you wanted to understand me?” he asked. “Well go on, _understand me_.” He took a drag.

Renly had thought he’d be angry, but he was too tired for anger. He just sighed. “You know it’s a myth that cocaine sobers you up. It just makes you feel more alert.” He didn’t even bother to ask where he’d got it from. With all the items that were on Loras' person as he came in the door now on the table, he must have got it from somewhere in the flat.

Loras shrugged, and whereas Renly might not have noticed it before, he could see the very slight change in Loras as he inhaled. His pupils were dilated, his expression changed somehow. It was hardly discernible and that was oddly what Renly found most alarming. He'd always thought that it would be blindingly obvious when Loras was using- that he'd be jittery, talking uncontrollably- and yet the changes were so small that he'd likely never have spotted them if he hadn't been actively looking for them. It was the mark of a habitual user, he supposed, and it terrified him.

He wanted to tell Loras this and yet he couldn't find any words. “I didn’t know you could smoke cocaine,” he said instead, lamely.

“You can’t,” Loras said mildly, fiddling with his lighter ever so slightly. “This is freebase, and if you're worried, a very tiny dose at that.”

Renly had done his research and he wasn’t fooled by the term. “So basically crack then?” he sighed.

Loras turned his nose up. “Not really,” he said, “They call it crack because of the noise it makes, and it only makes that noise because of the shit dealers cut it with.”

“Still,” Renly sighed. “I didn’t know you could smoke _freebase_ cocaine either, in a cigarette I mean.”

“No you can,” Loras laughed. “It’s shit value for money, but you can. It has its advantages. No-one bats an eyelid if you roll up a cigarette.” He sighed, leaning back against the back of the sofa. “You’ve watched me roll spiked cigarettes a hundred times and you’re supposed to be the smart one out of the two of us - but if you pull out a pipe, things get a little more tricky.”

Renly groaned. “Well don’t I feel duped.” He supposed Loras was lucky though that he'd never decided to smoke indoors before. He could smell the stuff; it was an odd smell, rather faint but distinctly metallic almost.

Loras shrugged. “It was always best that you didn’t know. It wasn't personal." He took one last drag and then stubbed his cigarette out, flicking the end into the waste-paper bin. "Now come, you wanted to talk. About _rehab_ I believe.” He said it as if it were a dirty word.

Loras' tone unnerved Renly, it was oddly confident, arrogant almost, and that he supposed was a direct effect of the drug. From what he'd read on forums this morning, either form of cocaine made you feel like you could jump off a building and survive.

“I did want to talk," he told him anyway, standing and heading over to his briefcase. He took out the leaflets he'd printed and handed them to Loras. “I thought you might like to have a look at some of these,” he said lightly. “I know you don’t think you need to give up, but I think you’re misguided Loras.”

Loras raised a sceptical eyebrow, looked at the top one briefly and then handed them back to Renly. “I think I’m okay thank you,” he said sharply.

Renly sat down beside him, frowning. Loras hadn't even looked at any of the options Renly had printed out information on for him and Renly felt frustration brimming up once more. "Why not?" he protested. "There's no harm in going." He handed them firmly back to Loras.

This time, Loras placed the pile of leaflets on the coffee table, out of Renly's reach. “Ignoring the fact that I don’t want to go, and I don’t need to go, I wouldn’t be allowed to go," he said vehemently.

“Why not?” Renly protested. Loras was twenty one, almost twenty two, not five, and he'd already made it perfectly clear that he thought himself capable of making his own decisions. He certainly wasn't allowing Renly to make any decisions for him.

“Moral clauses in my contracts,” Loras said smugly. “Pretty sure substance abuse is listed there. I check into rehab and I lose every contract I’ve got. Nobody wants a model representing them who's been snapped checking into rehab.”

Renly was no stranger to moral clauses that could be slipped into contracts- he'd had an exam question even on them in his finals- and yet he refused to believe that Loras' management had that much power over him. "There has to be ways," he argued. "Half of celebrities nowadays seem to have been to rehab. There must be some secret way to check in and check out. And anyway, I'm not demanding that you necessarily go and _stay_ in one. I'm suggesting that we both go to talk to someone about the best way forward, and I think that would be good for you."

“Well I don’t," Loras said shortly, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "We take one step into one of those places and the paparazzi will be all over it. You've already jeopardised my career by telling that boyfriend of Sansa's sister that he could root through my pockets and I shan't be taking any more risks. I quite enjoy being in demand.”

“I don’t care if it's risky,” Renly growled, stung by the accusation that all this was somehow his fault. “You’re going or I’m going.”

“To rehab?” Loras asked sweetly.

“No, anywhere.”

Loras scowled at him. “So what are you going to do? Tie me up and drag me there?”

“No,” Renly said stiffly. He could feel his composure slipping and he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I just wanted you to seriously think about it.” He edged closer to him on the sofa. “Loras, I want what’s best for you and you’re putting yourself in so much danger. Especially right now. Do you know how risky it is to mix alcohol and coke? It’s like playing Russian roulette.”

Loras shrugged. “I’m still here aren’t I?”

Renly groaned. “For the moment,” he muttered, “But you’re not invincible Loras, you might be rich and famous, but you’re not invincible.” He sighed and patted Loras' arm gently. “Which is why I want you to go to think about going. I’ll tell you what. We’ll sit down together and go through them.”

“No thank you.”

“Please,” Renly tried.

To his surprise, Loras smiled, “Fine," he laughed. "I’ll tell you what. Do something for me and we’ll look through them together like you want.”

Renly didn't know whether to rejoice or whether to slap Loras around the face. As desperate as he was for Loras to at least look at the leaflets he'd printed out for him, Loras was hardly in any position to be making demands of him, and that, Renly thought, pissed him off more than any of Loras' behaviour tonight had done.

“Fine,” he snapped all the same. “What do you want?”

Loras' reply was very predictable and for the first time that evening perhaps, he looked up at Renly with something less than contempt in his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly’s bed was still rumpled from where he’d climbed out of it to let Loras in and Renly didn’t bother making it. He was furious, he couldn’t deny it. He’d offered Loras a cease-fire today and had it thrown back in his face, and whereas he’d suggested that they merely go through a few leaflets before spending the evening together, they were apparently doing it Loras’ way now and quite honestly, Renly would rather have thrown him out of the front door than make love to him. It was five in the morning, Loras had come in hours past midnight, drunk, before having the audacity to smoke drugs in his living room even as he made his own demands.

He wasn’t sure why he’d agreed, or why he’d let Loras drag him to their bedroom and pull their clothes off, and yet when Loras tried to pull him down on top of him onto the bed, he shook his head, anger simmering beneath his skin. He was in no mood to climb gently above Loras like he usually did and have Loras pull his arms stubbornly around him, especially not at five in the morning.

“Not like that,” Renly breathed. “On your knees.”

“But I don’t want to be on my knees,” Loras told him, eyes narrowed. “I want you to hold me.” It was comical almost, the paradox between his fierce demands that Renly sleep with him before he’d co-operate and his desire still to be held as he usually was, and yet Renly couldn’t raise a smile.

“You asked me to sleep with you and I shall, but we’ll do it my way.” He heaved Loras up by his shoulders and spun him round. “Yes or no? Your decision.” A large part of him wanted Loras to lose interest.

“Fine,” Loras snapped though. “But aren’t you even going to kiss me first?”

“No,”

Loras scowled but he got up onto his knees and waited. Renly had never taken him like this before and yet Loras seemed to know where he should be. It didn’t stop him glaring at him though.

Renly sighed at the expression on his handsome face. “If you like Loras, we can look at the leaflets first and then we can have sex? Would you prefer that?”

“I told you,” Loras hissed, “I’ll only look at them aft-”

“You can ready yourself then,” Renly told him, sliding a teasing hand down the curve of Loras’ back.

“Ready myself?” Loras repeated. He seemed a little lost at that, bewildered and confused. “Why?”

“Because otherwise it will hurt.”

“I meant why not you?” Loras asked stiffly. “You always ready me Ren,”

“Because I’m not very pleased with you, and if I had it my way you’d have come home at a reasonable hour tonight and we’d have talked things through sensibly before doing this.”

“Well it’s not me who wants to ship me off to some hospital where the media will ridicule me,” Loras spat. In defiance almost, Loras reached behind to ready himself. Shameful as it was to admit, Renly was almost pleased to see that Loras was clumsy with his fingers, that he didn’t appear to be enjoying it half as much as he would have done if Renly had readied him.

Indeed, Renly watched him a little sceptically. For a boy who was apparently so desperate for this that he’d demand it in exchange for just agreeing to consider seeing a specialist, he didn’t seem particularly aroused, and from what Renly had read online this morning, he had to wonder whether it was the cocaine that explained why Loras’ cock was only half hard or just the rather unappealing situation.

“You sure you want this?” Renly asked. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

“Well usually we have sex together,” Loras muttered, his cheeks stained pink.

Renly just rolled his eyes. “It’s not _me_ insisting we have sex right now.” He sighed heavily. Quite honestly, he wondered now whether Loras too was doubting his decision to insist that they fucked before he’d co-operate and whether it was his pride that wouldn’t let him change his mind. “Well tell me when you’re ready,” he said, going to the drawer by his bed and unwrapping a condom. “And if you still want to.”

It seemed like an age before Loras got anywhere with readying himself. He was slow, awkward, methodical where Renly would have teased and kept him on edge. It was harsh but Renly reckoned one could safely say that Loras was as boring here as he was during the rest of sex.

“I’m ready,” Loras mumbled eventually though, head held high. He gasped though as Renly entered him, and he evidently had to brace himself against the bed to stop himself toppling over. It was hard to tell if he liked the sensation from behind and for all Renly quite fancied being rough with him to get a little vindictive satisfaction, he tried to rein himself in all the same.

It was a difficult task, Renly had to think to himself as he pulled Loras’ hips towards him with each thrust. For seven months, he and Loras had been less adventurous than an elderly couple and this was quite exciting in comparison.

He didn’t last particularly long and Loras got up stiffly from the bed once he was done, his posture awkward, like an injured gazelle. Renly could see that his cock hung limp between his legs.

“I’d offer to finish you,” Renly said, eyebrow raised, “but…”

Loras tried to grab at the covers and hide it, but the sheets didn’t quite stretch far enough and he was left red-faced.

“Is it the cocaine from earlier?” Renly asked bitterly.

Loras scowled down at his cock as if he felt let down by it, and he turned back to Renly with a mix of humiliation and fury on his face. “That’s got nothing to do with it,” he spat. “You know full well I wasn’t enjoying it, and you did that on purpose,”

“Did what on purpose?” 

“Fuck me roughly, and painfully.”

Renly sighed. “You didn’t tell me I was hurting you.”

Loras shrugged and turned to him with narrowed eyes, fetching his clothes off the floor and pulling garment after garment on hurriedly. “You knew you were hurting me. You did it on purpose to punish me.”

He had half a point, Renly thought a little guiltily. He’d certainly insisted that he take Loras from behind purely not to let Loras get what he wanted, and yet he’d never intended to hurt him. “Loras,” he sighed, “This pride of yours is ridiculous. You’re too proud to admit you have a problem, you’re too proud to admit back there that you wanted me to stop. Just be sensible for five seconds. You know I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Well how would you feel?” Loras hissed and turning to the cupboard, he had the audacity to pull one of Renly’s jumpers on over his head. “You made me almost beg you to make love to me, and then when you did, you fucked me like I was some inflatable doll you bought for a tenner. You put me on my knees, you barely touched me, you didn’t give me one kiss.”

“Is getting on his knees beneath Loras Tyrell then?” Renly asked sarcastically. “An addiction to cocaine is fine, but a little slightly rough sex isn’t?” He ignored Loras’ scowl and pulled his pyjama bottoms back on. Silently, he headed back to the living room and scooped up the leaflets once more.

“Now come on,” he said when he re-entered their bedroom, unsurprised to meet Loras in the doorway, evidently half way through his attempts to skulk out. He grasped his wrist to stop him escaping. "I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain, you’re going to fulfil yours.”

“Fine,” Loras snapped.

Renly spread the leaflets over the bed, wondering really though if there was any point trying to reason with Loras when he was like this. “There’s some nice places Loras,” he told him anyway, aware that he might as well have been talking _at_ him rather than _to_ him. “We could go together. And it would be like a holiday. This one has a pool, a spa, tennis courts, a gym, massages, personal trainer, and individually designed nutritional meals.”

“I don’t care if it’s fit for a queen.” Loras hissed, still lurking unenthusiastically by the door. “I’m not going.”

Either we go to one of these places,” Renly gestured to the leaflets, “Even just for a quick chat, or god help me Loras, I am out of options as to what to do with you.”

“You don’t mean it,” Loras said warily. “You’ve given me ultimatum after ultimatum. You don’t mean any of them.”

“And why’s that?” Renly asked wearily. He didn’t really know why he was bothering to protest. He had a miserable suspicion that Loras was right- he didn’t have enough resolve to follow through on a single one of his ultimatums.

“People would kill to date me,” Loras snapped as he backed away through the door. “You don’t have it in you to leave me, or you’d have done it already.”

“I do Loras,” Renly sighed ruefully, despite his doubts. “And I swear to god if you walk out that door now, I will.”

“You won’t,” Loras hissed. “But Feel free. And maybe I’ll find someone more grateful to fall in love with.” He spun round. “Or then again, maybe I won’t. I only have to look at you to know that it must feel powerful to be the one who cares less.”

“Now that’s below the belt,” Renly protested, stung. “I’m trying to help you Loras.” He took hold of him by the wrist. “Now you will sit here and go through these brochures with me.”

“I will not,” Loras spat. He slapped away Renly’s hands vehemently, squirming out of his grasp. “Just fuck off and leave my choices alone Renly. I’m your boyfriend, not your child.”

“You walk out that door and you won’t be either,” Renly warned a little desperately.

“ _Just watch me._ ”

Renly almost rolled his eyes as he watched him leave. Loras, he knew, would be slinking back in as soon as he let him.


	18. Chapter 18

Renly awoke a few hours later so tired that he was tempted to call in sick. Indeed, he fell asleep several times on the tube and had it not been for a woman who took the same train as him every morning nudging him awake, he would have missed his stop entirely. He dragged himself up to his office regardless of the fact that his limbs felt like lead though, and was comforted at least to find Sansa sitting on his desk, looking almost offensively bright eyed and bushy tailed for such an hour.

He was pleased to see her, and ignoring the fact that he wanted to lean his head on his desk and go straight back to sleep, he forced himself to drum up some enthusiasm. “Hey,” he laughed with great effort, “How was yesterday?” He thought privately that it must have gone well, for Sansa looked more stylish than ever, elegant in a pencil skirt and very high heels as if she'd felt inspired when dressing this morning.

Indeed, she smiled, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and folding her legs elegantly, perched still as she was on Renly's desk. “I’m so sorry,” she gushed, “I should have texted you that I wasn’t going to be coming in, but I just got so carried away. They wanted me to hang around and I couldn’t just say no, could I?”

Renly smiled back at her, hoping she wouldn't be able to see through his good mood. “Slow down,” he chuckled wearily as he took a seat. “I want to hear it start to finish.”

“All right,” she said. Twisting round, she leant in slightly. “Well this one was Elite London, and it was really odd. It was an open casting call but I’m sure they were expecting me. They all kind of whispered when I told them my name, and I wondered whether maybe Loras pulled a few strings. Ask him for me will you?”

“Sure,” Renly sighed. At least he would ask him when Loras saw fit to come home. Needless to say, there had been no sign of him this morning. 7:30am was apparently too early even for an insomniac.

“Anyway," she continued, "they were really nice to me, and usually I'm told you only get five or ten minutes at casting calls, but they gave me a whole half an hour. I was given all these outfits to try on and they took some photos of me." She slipped off Renly's desk and drew up a chair beside him. "And then they asked me to stay till the afternoon so that I could have a session with a make-up artist.”

There was thinly veiled excitement brimming under her put-together composure and Renly was glad for her. “And…?” he smiled. “Elaborate won’t you.”

“And well my face takes make-up well,” Sansa told him proudly. “Apparently they had concerns as well that I’m too classically beautiful, but they said with the right make up and if I lose a bit of weight I might be versatile enough, at least for the commercial side of it. Obviously I'd rather do runway because Loras says that commercial modelling is for girls too boring to make it anywhere else, but I can't be _too_ fussy starting out.”

“Well that’s great,” Renly managed, leaning back heavily against the back of his chair. “So what now? Did they sign you?”

“Well they’ve offered me a contract!” Sansa told him excitedly. “But I haven’t signed it yet.”

“You haven’t?” Renly had to admit he was surprised. He’d have thought Sansa liable to sign the first piece of paper that was thrust in her face. “And why’s that?”

Sansa gave him her sweetest smile and slid a few papers surreptitiously out of her bag. “Please?” she said, tilting her face up towards his.

Renly sighed. He wondered whether he would rue the day when he'd decided to take a vocational degree course. He was sure that English Literature graduates never got books shoved in their faces by somebody who wanted a quick opinion on a Shakespeare quote and that Geography students were never called upon to give a little travel advice. Meanwhile, medics spent their entire lives being questioned on one symptom or another and lawyers their entire lives looking over friends' lease agreements and contracts.

“You want me to go through it for you?” he asked unnecessarily. 

Sansa nodded a little sheepishly.

“Give it here then,” Renly yawned, running his hand through his hair. He picked up a pen. “Am I allowed to write on it?”

“I made you a copy, so yes."

“Of course you did." Renly started reading, leafing through it absent-mindedly as he went to see how long it was. “Well I’ll explain it to you as I go along shall I? It’s a contract for three years-”

“I got that part,” Sansa laughed.

“For three years,” Renly continued, undeterred. “Globally exclusive- that means that you can’t contact any other agency whilst you’re with them, even the ones outside of the UK.” He sighed, moving onto the section on commission- a very long session on commission. It was no wonder that Sansa couldn’t understand it, he thought, and he underlined the pertinent parts in yellow as he translated it out of the legal jargon they’d used into language that Sansa would be able to understand.

“That’s the part I struggled with,” Sansa admitted as he read. “And I didn’t want to admit to them I didn’t understand it.”

“Well,” Renly sighed. “It is a rather complicated. They’re going to take 30% commission off you on anything you earn up to £50,000. That goes down to 25% over £50,000, but goes up to 40% if you fail to book anything in your first year.”

“Is that bad?” Sansa asked, twiddling her hands.

Renly shrugged. “It’s not great, but if you ask me, if you’ve got to the stage where you haven’t booked anything at all in your first year, you might want to be reconsidering the career choice.”

“True,” she said quietly.

“Now, the opt-out clauses,” Renly pressed. “That means the circumstances in which you or they can get out of the contract.” He scanned it quickly. “Which for you means…. absolutely none.” He laughed, “Not great, but don’t they just make up for it with their opt-outs. Apparently, the agency may give five days notice to the model to terminate this agreement for breach of the following," Renly took a deep breath. "breaching the exclusivity of the given contract, getting pregnant, receiving tattoos or piercings without agency approval, making significant changes to hair or hair style without agency approval, gaining in excess of 2cm to either hips or waist measurement or violating the moral code laid down by the Agency."

Sansa looked a little bewildered. “Which is?”

Renly took another deep breath. “The model agrees to conduct himself or herself with propriety and dignity, and to do nothing on an engagement or otherwise that may tend to injure the reputation and goodwill of the model or agency, nor to do any act or thing which impairs the model's capacity to at all times fully comply with the terms of this agreement, or which impairs the model's physical or mental qualities and abilities. The model further agrees to abide by all standard rules and policies of the agency with regard to behaviour on castings and engagements. The agency may again, upon five days notice to the model terminate this agreement for breach of this paragraph.”

This, he supposed, was the sort of clause which Loras seemed intent on using to his advantage. He tried not to dwell on it though and turned his attention duly back to Sansa.

“So basically, you agree to all that," he glanced down to read on further, "and _they_ agree to advise and counsel you in the selection or consideration of career opportunities, photographers, advertisers, and the selection or creation of vehicles for Model's talents. The agency shall further advise and counsel the model in any and all matters pertaining to publicity, public relations, advertising, talents of the model, and shall advise and counsel the model on composites (comp cards), and the formation of portfolio.” Renly sighed. “That’s pretty self-explanatory really.”

“So do you think I should sign it?”

Renly sighed. “Well if you’re serious about giving this a go then I think you have to. I think it’s a poor contract but the industry is famous for poor contracts. I doubt you’d find a better one.” Putting the contract back in order, he grinned. “And if you really want out, I guess you could always shave your hair off or something.”

Sansa winced. “Arya would love that,” she said tartly.

Renly laughed. “I bet she would. But I bet she’d love it more if you went for a triple violation and got tattoos and piercings too, or got pregnant, or if you violated the moral code by walking around drinking whiskey out of a brown paper bag in public.” He smiled to himself, amused. No doubt the agency would drop Sansa for such an offence, but he imagined Robert would probably promote her on the spot if he saw her wandering around taking swigs of whiskey. 

“She would love that more,” Sansa agreed. She picked up the pieces of paper. “Shall I sign it then or do you think Loras would look at it for me too?”

“He might,” Renly said hesitantly, “But to be honest, I doubt Loras has ever done any more than skim read a contract. He was signed at fourteen, so the first four years it’ll have been his parents signing for him, and I imagine that by the time that that ended, he was probably working freelance.”

“Yes but he’d still have to sign contracts with the clients.”

“True, but his management will have had lawyers do all the proof reading.” He sighed deeply, all the misery of this morning returning. “I mean I can ask him if you like, but you might have a bit of a wait. I don't we’re on speaking terms right now.”

“You're not?” Sansa’s eyes widened. “What’s happened?”

“The usual really,” Renly groaned as he proceeded to fill her in.

 

* * *

 

 Renly had been expecting to find a mass of curly hair waiting in a taxi when he got home and yet his flat was oddly silent. Loras' things lay still on the coffee table, unmoved, a small red light blinking on his phone to inform him that the battery was low. Picking it up and swiping a finger across the screen, Renly could see that he had no less than thirty-seven missed calls, the most recent being from his sister. It wouldn't tell him any more without a pin code though and so wearily, he put it back down.

He went to bed alone that night and it was only when his alarm went off in the morning and he realised that he'd slept through the night without having to drag himself downstairs to let Loras in that he began to get a little anxious. His first thought was to phone him and he reached his voice-mail before he realised why that had been incredibly stupid.

He mentioned nothing to Sansa and yet still, he spent the entire morning reliving that last argument in his head, going through each detail over and over again. He hadn't thought it particularly worse than all the others, and yet then again, he'd never heard Loras threaten to leave him before. Not even once had that sort of sentiment crossed Loras' lips before and his words echoed in Renly's head, ringing and ringing like bells that wouldn't stop chiming. _People would kill to date me_ , he'd said. _Maybe I'll find someone more grateful to fall in love with_. Renly had ignored his words, dismissed them as threats born of Loras' anger, and yet now he was beginning to have doubts.

He was restless the entire day, rushing home at the end of the day as fast as he dared. He was a little anguished to see that his road was still deserted as he rounded the corner, and yet he tried to calm himself as he unlocked the door with unsteady hands. In his haste to get home he'd left earlier than usual. Loras wasn't to know that though, and so most likely he'd come slinking back in an hour or two, when he knew that Renly would definitely be home from work. It was a comforting thought, and yet as the hours slipped by, dusk slowly falling outside, Renly's anxiety began to mount once more. Loras had never been gone so long before, not even once.

He was frantic by the time that another two days had slipped by, wound up so tightly that he might have cried with joy if Loras was to suddenly reappear on his doorstep, but as the weekend approached, he felt an odd sense of calm descend over him. _It was a game_ , Renly thought bitterly to himself, the sort of game which Sansa might play sometimes with her boyfriends, convinced that men were like elastic bands who only came springing back if she backed away from them. It was the golden rule of playing hard to get, and no doubt Loras thought that by disappearing for a few days, Renly would come chasing desperately after him.

Sadly, Renly thought, he was right, and it was a little shamefully that he brought up Google Maps on his laptop. If Loras wanted to be chased then he supposed he had to chase, and short of going by each expensive hotel one by one, there was only one place he could look that sprung to mind.

 

* * *

 

Regardless of the fact that he’d been born into money himself, Renly felt a little anxious as he made his way up the drive to Highgarden in the car Stannis had let him borrow, and not just because he was ashamed to be driving a Volvo. The house, a great white manor, loomed up ahead of him, and Renly could really see why Highgarden was supposedly famous for its gardens. There were flowers everywhere, a gorgeous purple wisteria trailing up one side of the house, and beds of spring roses surrounding immaculate lawns as far as the eye could see. Even the driveway was lined with cherry trees in full blossom, their petals scattered across the road ahead of him. It was a grand place he'd come to and Renly really would have given anything to have Loras by his side, regardless of their problems.  

He was halfway to the house when a man, dressed in a tweed jacket no less of course, waved him over. Letting the car grind to a standstill, Renly rolled down the window, almost groaning as the man approached. Bald, but with a short bristly grey beard, he looked to be a stiff, imposing sort of man.

“I’m sorry sir,” the man said curtly, not sorry at all. “But on Sundays, tours finish at 12. Both the house and the gardens will be closed until Tuesday now.”

“Actually,” Renly said, refusing to look away from the man's stare. “I was actually hoping to see the family.”

“Were you now sir?” He didn’t seem impressed. “Do they know you’re coming?”

“Well no,” Renly laughed, “But really, I’m a friend of Loras’.”

“Of course you are sir,” the man said shortly, “Every other person who tours the house nowadays is a _friend_ of Loras’.” He gave a grim frown. “You’d do best to come back on a Saturday sir. The gift shop is open then and sometimes they sell autographs.”

Renly almost groaned. “I’m not a fan, I’m a friend, an actual friend, more than a friend really. If you must know, Loras and I have been dating for the past six months.”

“Hmm,” the man muttered. “As you say sir. A few questions then as is protocol." He drew out a leather bound notebook from inside his tweed jacket and opened it to a page near the front. "When’s his birthday?”

“June the 14th,” Renly said shortly, though quite honestly, he'd had to think quite hard about that. He had it in his diary but it wasn't like he'd ever been around for one of Loras' previous birthdays. He was pleased to see the man give a curt nod. His answer evidently matched the one written in his book.

"His siblings?"

This was easy. Back when they'd been on speaking terms, Loras had never used to shut up about his siblings. “Margaery, Garlan and Willas."

“Current address? His, I mean. Not yours.”

“Well the answer would be the same regardless,” Renly said dryly. He duly recited his address for him.

"Shoe size?"

"Nine," Renly said, "ish, depending on the shoe." He bit back a laugh. Loras' feet were really quite small, and not just next to his own huge ones. That probably explained why he had such good balance, Renly thought, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. Soon, the man had him answering all sorts of questions. Loras' favourite colour, Loras' favourite animal, where he'd been born, where he liked to go out for dinner; the man didn't seem to run out of questions and he asked each one with an almost scary efficiency. 

Eventually though, he closed the notebook with a snap and got out a walky-talky. “Tarly here,” he said into the mouthpiece. “Got a gentleman who claims to be a friend of Loras'.” A pause. “Yes, sir, either that or a very impressive stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker,” Renly began to protest.

The gentleman just waved him impatiently through and a little frustrated, Renly put his foot down and sped away from him as fast as he dared. After all that, he bloody hoped Loras _was_ here. He didn't dare get his hopes up too high though and he had to force a smile when he was met from the little private car park by a lady in a green pinafore. 

She held out her hand as soon as Renly was out of the car. "Mrs Rowan, sir, the housekeeper here at Highgarden. I'll show you in.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Re-

“We know who you are, pet. Our Loras doesn’t come home often, but you were the only thing he talked about when he was home at Christmas.” She winked at him. “Right proud of you he was. Three hundred times he must have asked us if we knew you’d gone to Cambridge.”

Renly laughed awkwardly.

“He was never a chatty one, but god would he not be quiet when he was last back. Even Margaery couldn’t get him to put a sock in it. Spent the entire three days he was here nattering on about how he’d bring you down for a few days when he was less busy.” She smiled. “Not that that ever happens does it? Always on the go is our Loras. Rome, Paris, New York. I don’t know how he does it.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed politely. He, on the other hand,  _did_ know how Loras did it. 

“Lovely boy isn’t he?” she was saying.

“Yes,” Renly sighed. “Lovely.” He raised a smile. “A little stubborn perhaps.”

“Ah yes, more headstrong than the horses our Willas breeds. Everyone told him he’d do well to take his exams anyway and would he listen? Of course not.” She sighed. “But he means well. He’s a poppet really.”

“Yes,” Renly agreed quietly. “he is.” He had been at least, he thought and he felt a little teary as he thought back on Loras as he had been. He’d been sweet once upon a time, and Renly didn’t think he could forget the way Loras had often looked at him. His face had never failed to light up each time they’d had sex and Renly felt awful when he tried to imagine how Loras’ face might have looked that time last week, screwed up perhaps, in pain, his pride holding his mouth tightly shut.

“Well this is the drawing room,” she was saying. “I’ll just get one of his siblings for you. One of them will be around I’m sure.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, and he just had time to run his hands hurriedly through his hair before the door was opening again and a man stepping through it. He had the same curly hair as Loras did and yet his seemed under worse control. With strands flying away everywhere and a scruffy beard to match, the man looked a little like Renly imagined Loras would if he let himself go a little, dyed his hair back to his natural colour and then spent an intensive few weeks drinking protein shakes.

“Garlan,” the man introduced himself as, a wide grin on his face. “And you must be the infamous Renly!”

A quiet voice popped up from inside the drawing room, obviously elderly. “The boyfriend it is? Is he really as handsome as Loras says?”

Garlan laughed. “I’ll leave judging other men's looks to Loras, Grandmother,” He grinned at Renly again. “You’re the only man yet that I’ve heard Loras admit might be more attractive than him. Usually he’s quite unenthusiastic about men he sees as potential rivals.”

Renly laughed. “Well I guess most of his potential rivals don’t sleep with him. Sort of ups the enthusiasm a little.”

“True,” Garlan guffawed, “Definitely true.” Smile widening, he pushed a hand through his untidy hair. “Where is my little brother then?” he asked, looking behind Renly as if Loras might have been hiding there. Renly rather wished he was.

“Ah, well, he’s not here.” Renly explained a little awkwardly. “I was actually looking for him myself.” 

“Oh,” Garlan frowned. “Run off has he?”

Renly scratched his head. “You could say that I guess,”

Garlan nodded rather seriously. “Right, well he’s not here. I can promise you that. We haven’t seen him since Christmas.”

“And you have no idea where he might be?” Renly asked a little desperately, clutching at straws.

Garlan shrugged. “Sorry,” he laughed. “But I don’t. Willas might. He’s got all the details for his debit cards. Might be able to narrow him down a little like that if we track the cash points he’s been using and whatnot.”

Renly sighed. “Well his wallet is currently on our coffee table so I doubt it. I can’t understand it, he left without any money, without his credit cards, without his phone even. I mean even Loras needs some way to access money right.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you,” Garlan laughed. "But Loras' lifestyle has always confused me."

“He’ll have picked up the card he gave Margaery,” that elderly voice again said. “She had it for _emergencies_ , not that she'd ever need it with the silly amount of money your father puts into her account each month.”

“Ah,” Garlan said. He turned back to Renly. “Grandmother says Margaery is our answer. You’ve met Margie haven’t you?”

“Once, very briefly” Renly said, thinking back to the very fleeting introduction he'd had to Loras' sister in his hotel room once. “Where does she live again?”

“Usually here, but at the moment she’s doing some course at UCL. She’s got halls of residence there.”

“Do you think he might be with her then?” Renly’s stomach gave a leap. He still had no idea how he and Loras would even begin to try and patch things up, for nothing would have changed between last week and now, but the fact that the chance would be there again made him feel a little light headed. Loras' total absence somehow seemed worse than even their constant arguing. 

“Maybe,” Garlan took out his phone. “I’ll give her a ring for you.”

She seemed to pick up almost instantly. “Hey Margie,” he laughed. “It’s me. Quick question. Is Loras staying with you?” There was silence as Margaery evidently talked. “And what did he want?” Another pause. “Right, and you gave it to him?” He frowned before hanging up and turning back to Renly. “So apparently he was with her at the beginning of this week, but he only stayed a few hours, indeed to get his spare credit card off her. Came round at some god-awful time apparently. She says she’s tried ringing him about a thousand times but his phone’s dead.”

Renly's disappointment must have shown on his face, for Garlan sighed apologetically.

“Sorry we can’t be more help,” he said.

“Well thanks anyway,” Renly said weakly, a little surprised by the fact that he felt tears gathering in his eyes. He'd been so sure, he supposed, that Loras' family would know where he was. “I guess I should be on my way then. Look somewhere else for him.”

“Don’t be silly,” Garlan said brightly. “Stay for tea.”

Renly couldn't imagine anything worse than sitting surrounded by the remainder of Loras' family that he hadn't yet met, not when Loras seemed insistent on not coming home. He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed and the sooner he escaped, the better. “Thanks," he said quickly, "but really, I’ve got stuff to be getting back for, and I should probably try really and find Loras." 

"If you insist," Garlan seemed a little disappointed but he made to show Renly back out all the same, even as the elderly woman Renly had not yet seen began to complain about not having had what she called _Loras' new man_ introduced to her.

It was a relief when he reached the privacy of his borrowed car and yet he couldn't stop the tears falling then. He'd nowhere else to look for Loras now, and he leant his head dismally against the dashboard, thoroughly defeated. He'd given Loras the choice between cocaine and him, and it appeared now that Loras had made his choice. 


	19. Chapter 19

“Surely he wouldn't just walk out on you like that?” Sansa breathed. Huddled as they were under the covers in Renly's bed with a bar of chocolate between them, she looked wide-eyed up at him, horrified.

Renly shrugged and pulled the covers more tightly around him. A week had passed with still no word from Loras and the little hope he'd had that he might wake up one morning to find Loras on his doorstep had almost all drained away. “He might,” he mumbled. “If he thought I was going to walk out on him.”

“And were you?” Sansa whispered. 

Renly winced, and Sansa duly nudged the bar of chocolate in his direction, evidently fearful that he might cry again. It had taken him until today to confess to Sansa that Loras had still yet to return and he'd almost sobbed as he'd swallowed his pride and cowardly told her over the phone. Somehow, voicing his fear that Loras wasn't coming back out loud had made it seem more real, no longer something that he could push to the back of his mind and ignore like an ostrich with its head in the sand. Sansa's question made those tears threaten to well up once more, and Renly really couldn't force himself to dwell any longer on the cruel irony which was that after weeks and weeks of threatening to leave Loras, Loras had finally bitten the bullet and left him instead. Truthfully, Renly didn't know whether he'd ever intended to follow through on his words; he didn't think he'd ever known really.

“I don’t know,” Renly muttered. “Maybe.”

Sansa sighed and shuffled around under the covers. “Ice cream?" she suggested softly. She'd come well prepared, no doubt running off for chocolate and ice cream as soon as Renly had got off the phone with her this morning, and yet Renly didn't think any amount of sugar would change how miserable the prospect of Loras never coming home was. He reached out for a spoon regardless.

The ice cream made him feel more numb than he already was and yet Renly almost relished the sensation. He wondered vaguely whether eating the whole tub would help him stop feeling at all. It was wishful thinking though, the cold giving him nothing but a rather dull headache, and Renly imagined that Loras was doing a better job at making himself forget than he was, cocaine being rather more potent than vanilla ice cream. It was a bitter thought and Renly almost groaned in despair, cursing himself for his inability to go five minutes without dwelling on Loras.

“Why did you ever let me walk up to him at that bloody fashion show?” he lamented into his pillow.

“I _did_ try and stop you,” Sansa said quietly.

“Not hard enough,” Renly muttered thickly, his head throbbing as he fought back angry tears. “I wish I’d never met him. No man’s ever made me more miserable.”

“But that’s because you loved him,” Sansa whispered. "That's why they say love is a double edged sword. You're miserable because you care that he's gone."

“I know that,” Renly sighed. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the tangles. “Maybe I should even thank him. Loving him in these past few weeks was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. Maybe now I can hate him instead.”

“You don’t hate him,” Sansa whispered.

“No,” Renly groaned. “I don’t. But I should.” Miserably, he reached over to his bedside table, grasping the magazine he'd left there with trembling fingers. He'd left it open on the relevant page and it was with more than a little humiliation that he passed it to Sansa.

" _Speculation mounts over whether Loras Tyrell has split from long-term boyfriend Renly Baratheon_ ," she read, sitting up against the headboard. " _Hitting London's Ministry of Sound, the star was seen yesterday with an array of famous faces, including his ex Arianne Martell. The pair were seen cosying up to each other, allegedly racked up a £150,000 tab before leaving together. Noticeably absent was Renly Baratheon, London lawyer with whom Loras Tyrell shares a flat with._ " She looked down at him mournfully.

Renly couldn't return her gaze. He merely hugged his pillow to him more tightly. The entire of London seemed to be speculating whether he and Loras had split up, himself included. "How do you think reading that makes me feel Sansa?" he whispered, the words muffling into fabric that still smelled a little like Loras.

“Not very good,” Sansa breathed hesitantly. Gently, she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Shit is how it makes me feel,” Renly sighed, “How would you feel if your boyfriend was in London, a stone's throw away from you, but just didn't want to see you?" He brushed away a tear and pulled the pillow over his head so that Sansa wouldn't see. “It’s for the best, I know. Me and Loras weren’t going anywhere, not when he's determined to do coke till the end of his days, but I don't see why it had to be like this. I'd never have just _walked out_ on him like that."

Sansa evidently didn't know what to say and the sound of her fidgeting with the covers was like thunder over Renly's muffled breathing. "Think though," she said hesitantly, "I know it hurts, and I know it's cruel, but this way he makes the decision for you.”

Renly nodded into his pillow. “I suppose so.” She was possibly right and yet Renly didn't think it made it any easier. Surrounded still by all of Loras' things, his absence was tangible and every time he woke up he still expected to roll over and find Loras there, sat maybe in one of his jumpers beside him, or else out on the balcony with the morning sun on his face and the wind in his curls. Of course, he never was there and Renly felt a little like he was trapped in a painful limbo, unsure whether he ought to hold out hope that Loras was coming back or start to climb the long and arduous hill that moving on from him would be.

Sansa sighed when he said no more and Renly heard her pick up the magazine again, the pages rustling against her fingers. “£150,000 in one night?" she said quietly. "That’s crazy. Just how rich was Loras?"

“I never asked,” Renly said miserably. “Very.”

Sansa sighed again and gave him a gentle nudge. “Come on Renly, let's watch a film or something. You've got to distract yourself. You can’t stay in bed and mope all day.”

“I did yesterday,” Renly told her. In fact, aside from dragging himself to and from work every day, he'd barely left his bed. He found it offered little comfort though. Usually, curling up in bed worked rather well for him after a break up but he hadn't counted on how much of a mark Loras had left on the bedroom they'd shared for six months. Far from being his own space into which he could retreat, as it had always remained to some extent with his previous boyfriends, his bedroom only served now to remind him of the very memories he wanted to escape. Loras' hairbrush still lay unmoved on the dresser, his pyjamas were folded under the pillow and even though he'd been gone a fortnight, Renly couldn't even bring himself to sleep on his side of the bed.

Miserably, he rolled over and put his arms around Sansa, resting his head on her shoulder. She wasn't Loras but she was someone and it was better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time in his life, Renly thought he was glad of his job. It gave him at least a little structure to his day and it left him only the evening to browse guiltily through online tabloids and read articles about where Loras had been spotted. Each one hurt, the words digging into him like a knife, and yet Renly couldn’t help himself, drawn like a moth was to a flame he knew would burn him. He couldn't tear himself away and miserably, he found himself examining Loras' expression in each photo taken of him, even reading his tweets- all sent from an account that he knew Loras very rarely used himself.

And despite each article he read about Loras, each photo he saw of him going about his life as usual without him, he supposed that deep down he must have had a little hope that Loras was coming back. Often, he came across pictures of the two of them together, hand in hand or with their arms casually around each other as they smiled for the cameras, and Renly couldn't help but print his favourites off, stealing glossy photo paper from work. He had twenty or thirty before he decided he should do something with them, and adding them to the photos he and Loras had taken themselves, he emptied an old album that had apparently once been his mother's. It had been Stannis who had given it to him though, and it bore his mark on every page. First were Robert's school photos, all meticulously placed in order from Reception to Sixth Form, next Stannis', and then finally Renly's, many of his own photos pointless as they were indistinguishable from Robert at the same age. Honestly put, it was more interesting to watch paint dry than to flick through its pages, and Renly felt little guilt as he slipped the photos out of their plastic slots and replaced them with ones of him and Loras. He wasn't sure quite why he did it but he supposed he found some odd sort of calm in arranging them neatly within the album's pages, convinced perhaps that if Loras did come back, he might be moved enough by memories of better times to try and change.

All in all, he found he had little to distract him. His only comfort was that his friends rallied to him. Sansa seemed to split her time now between his flat and Sandor Clegane’s, a romance that Renly couldn’t believe was thriving where his own had failed. Brienne too had stopped by, a moment where Renly had really regretted answering the door in his boxers. Brienne had been horrified at his half-naked state- more flustered and embarrassed than she’d been coming into the office after going on her first official date with Jaime Lannister.

He kept that in mind the next time that there was a knock at the door, wondering if it was her again, for he knew that it was Sandor’s turn to have Sansa this evening and he didn’t dare acknowledge the fact that a very small part of him still had a faint hope that it might be Loras.

He managed his pyjama bottoms this time, failing to find a t-shirt that was even vaguely clean, seeing as he hadn’t even contemplated doing laundry since Loras had gone. It was wearily that he opened the door and whilst he’d had very little hope that it would be Loras, the person standing outside surprised him just as much.

He didn’t know what to say and so he just stood there, not even having the energy to shift awkwardly from foot to foot like any decent embarrassed person would. He supposed he should draw comfort from the fact that she too at least looked as embarrassed as he felt. Her cheeks a mild shade of beetroot, she looked uncomfortable enough for both of them and Renly didn't reckon it was just because he was shirtless.

“Hi,” she said. Renly could see that a taxi was parked behind her.

“Hi.”

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here.” She pushed her hair back off her face in the same way that Loras had used to and Renly found it made him ache just watching.

Renly shrugged. “Yes,” he sighed, “I am wondering why you’re here.” He stepped back to let her in anyway, turning to lead her up the stairs.

“Loras sent me,” she told him quietly as she followed him in, her footsteps light on the stairs. 

Renly was glad she’d told him when his back was turned. He wasn’t quite sure to react to that news. Part of him wanted to be relieved at any message from Loras and yet another part of him, a bigger part, was stung, hurt that Loras hadn’t come himself. He'd have thought Loras and he owed each other at least that much.

“I’ve been sent to collect my brother’s things,” she elaborated when Renly said nothing.

“ _Great_ ,” Renly said as cheerily as he could manage, the bitterness seeping in all the same like poison. “I take it that means we’ve broken up then.”

There was silence as she paused on the stairs behind him. “He didn’t tell you,” she said quietly. It wasn't a question.

“It would have been nice,” Renly laughed hollowly. He pushed open the door to his flat and stepped back to let her pass. “I’m sorry it’s so untidy.” In all honesty, he was a little ashamed really. Aside from the piles of dirty laundry which he knew were piling up in the airing cupboard, he’d let the washing up slide too. Everywhere were used plates and bowls, most of them having been used for take-aways, as cooking had seemed far too much of a challenge.

“No, really,” she protested. “Don’t apologise. It’s me who should be apologising for intruding on you like this.”

Renly just nodded thickly. “Don’t worry about it.” Shutting the kitchen door behind him so that she wouldn't see the mess anymore, he sighed as he led her into their bedroom. He wished it wasn’t so obvious that he’d just got out of bed but the rumpled covers and drawn curtains spoke for themselves.

He opened his wardrobe and pulled on a jumper. It was far too warm for the weather, he thought, but better than remaining half-naked. “That wardrobe over there is all Loras’ clothes,” he told her, feeling oddly empty. He'd had to go through the inevitably awkward process of giving things back with previous ex-boyfriends, but Loras was the first one he'd lived with and somehow it felt a thousand times worse. To distract himself, he went over to Loras' side of the bed and started emptying the drawers. "This is all his personal stuff," he explained, his voice sounding oddly robotic, a little like Stannis'. "You know, his phone and his wallet, passport and stuff. I'll put it all in a bag for you."

“No, I’ll do it,” she quickly said, fiddling with one of her long curls. 

Renly shrugged. “I can help. I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“No really,” She opened her handbag. “This is for you.” She drew out a letter and Renly could see that his name was written on the envelope in handwriting he recognised. 

He took it a little warily, biting back a sigh. “Thanks,” he mumbled, “I might go and read it in the kitchen or something. Just tell me when you want help getting all the heavy stuff down the stairs.”

“Take your time,” she insisted.

Renly barely heard her. His feet led him blindly to the kitchen and he slumped down heavily beside the dirty plates and slid the letter out of the envelope.

 _Renly_ , it started simply, and Renly was unsurprised at the lack of endearment. Loras had always hated such language. 

_I don’t know if you were expecting me to come back or if you even want me to come back, but either way, I suppose I must have seemed very cowardly to you. I want you to know that originaly I intended to come home, once I’d calmed down, but I suppose I changed my mind. I don’t know whether you intended this time to follow through on your ultimatems but I imagine that the day would have soon come where you’d have had to, as you were right- we certainly couldn’t go on with things like they were between us. I suppose I thought that this way might be easier for you- a clean break so to speak rather than another few months of us tearing each other further apart- but forgive me if I’m wrong. As you well know, I speak from no real experience._

_I suppose I owe you an apology, quite a few actually. You’re right in that I did hide things from you, and whilst I never meant to hurt you, I must admit that my intentions were undoubtedly selfish. In kind terms I guess you could say I was guilty of false advertising, but if you were being crueler, I suppose too that you could say I deluded you into loving me. I actively hid all the parts of myself that I thought you wouldn’t like and for that I apologize._

_I said a lot of horrible things to you too when I was angry, and I want you to know that I don’t mean any of them. That last night we were together, I acused you of intending to hurt me and I realize now that it was an unfair, cruel acusation. You’ve always been nothing less than extremley gentle with me, even when I was selfish, or rude, or aggressive with you. You might care little for my opinion now, but it was one of the things I always loved best about you, amongst many many other things. You had twice the strength I did but you never laid a finger on me and I knew you never would. I always felt safe with you, in a way which you probably didn’t always with me. I shall always be ashamed of that._

_I miss you terribly Renly, and I wish things could have been different. You meant more to me than you shall ever know and I really did see a future with you, one that made me happier than anything but one that I realize now was unrealistic._

_I’ll ask you for only one thing now, and that is that when you find yourself contacted by the media, which no doubt you shall be as soon as news gets out that we have split up, please don’t splash our private life all over the front of the tabloids. I hope that you’ll do this because you once loved me, but if I’m wrong, I’ve put the number of my publicist in the envelope for you. However big the figure you are offered is, I shall match it and double it._

_I miss you Renly, more than anything, but I hope you find someone soon who makes you happy, someone I guess who treats you in the way you deserve and who makes you happy all of the time, and not just some of the time like I must have done. I’ll always think of you often Ren._

_Loras_

 

Renly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he let the letter fall to the table. He’d thought them adults, not teenagers who broke up by letter, and he had to laugh hollowly at Loras’ notion that walking out on him one evening and leaving him hanging for a month counted as a clean break. It made him want to punch something, _gentle_ as he apparently was, and it was all he could do not to screw the letter up and have his sister take it back to him. It was only the knowledge that he’d regret it later that stopped him.

Scrunching his face up, he brushed away his tears angrily. Loras’ sister hearing him cry was all he needed right now. He supposed that he should be grateful for Loras sending him anything, and whilst Loras was right- he _did_ think that his methods were cowardly- he knew Loras far too well not to realise how hard much of what he'd written would have been for him. He’d of course avoided the most pertinent issue and yet he had admitted a lot of things that Renly never would have thought him capable of. He supposed it was of little consequence now, what Loras did or didn’t take responsibility for, but somehow it still meant at least a little.

And whilst part of him had been so determined to hate Loras, the thought of Loras missing him made a painful lump come to his throat, the words he’d written echoing in his mind as if Loras had read out his letter to him instead of writing it. Dismally, he supposed that it was quite possible now that he'd never see Loras in person again, now that his sister had come instead of him to clear away his things. The thought made his eyes sting and there were proper tears streaming down his face by the time that Margaery reappeared in the doorway. No matter how hard he wiped them away either, he knew that there was no hiding the fact that he’d been crying.

“Do you need help?” he asked her, his voice sounding choked even to his own ears. He could see suitcases behind her and he stood without waiting for an answer. The same slim build that Loras was and a good foot or so shorter, he didn’t imagine that there was any way she would be getting Loras’ things down the stairs without hurting herself.

“Please,” she whispered. She seemed a little embarrassed for him, and Renly was relieved when he could pick one of the very heavy suitcases up and walk away from her down the stairs. It took him a few trips and his chest felt somehow tight when he picked up the last one. This, he supposed, was it, the end. Loras’ things would be gone, _he_ would be gone, and he wouldn’t be coming back. It felt oddly surreal and the numbness had returned, an icy cold sweeping heavily through his limbs.

Margaery was putting a few last things in her handbag when he returned and she smiled a tired smile at him. “Thanks,” she said. “I wouldn’t have managed alone.”

“It’s nothing,” Renly managed. Biting back a sigh, he looked at her properly for the first time. Aside from the dress and the darker hair, she was a miniature version of Loras in female form, her eyes that same tawny gold colour and her skin just as creamy. He almost wanted to reach out and touch her, and whilst he refrained, he couldn't help a question tumbling from his lips. “Why did Loras not want to come himself?” he breathed.

“I don’t really know,” she admitted. “He didn't say much, he sent me a text.”

“Oh,” Renly sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fair enough.”

“I haven’t seen him,” she said softly. “He didn't deign to give me his new number until yesterday. He’s been avoiding me, probably because he’s scared I’ll talk sense into him, and now he’s gone back to the States.” She glanced at her phone. “He’ll probably be half way over the Atlantic now.”

Renly nodded, sinking down into a chair whilst she hovered in the doorway. “He always was based in the States really wasn’t he?” he said lamely. Vaguely. he remembered assuming on one of their first dates that he'd indeed _been_ American, something which Loras hadn't been very amused by. 

“Yes,” she agreed, hand going to her hair again. "He was usually in New York. Before you that is."

“Yes," Renly repeated sadly. "Before me..." Running his hand irritably through his hair, he wondered if he'd been the only thing keeping Loras in London. 

“You know, I thought I’d struck gold when he told me he’d got himself an English boyfriend and would be staying in London for a while.” She gave a weak smile. “I hadn’t counted on him being so head over heels for you that he’d be glued to you most of the time.”

Renly sighed heavily. “I’m sorry if I monopolised him."

“Don’t be,” she smiled. “I was pleased for him. My brother’s struggled with relationships in the past. Of course he always told me that he never wanted one, as Loras couldn’t _possibly_ admit that anything’s out of his control or that he’s a failure at anything, but it was nice to see him finally find someone. Obviously, It became apparent rather quickly once he’d met you that he’d been lying through his teeth whenever he’d told us all that he was hopping from vacuous girl to vacuous girl simply because he didn’t want anything else.”

“Yes,” Renly agreed quietly. It had been fairly clear to him too that Loras had been desperate for a relationship too. He only wished that Loras had been as desperate to stay in their relationship. 

“And I’m sorry, on Loras’ behalf.” She looked at him rather sadly, her eyes unnervingly like Loras' were whenever he felt he'd done something wrong. “I suppose you thought you could change him.”

Renly didn’t need to ask what she was referring to and he nodded wearily. He _had_ thought he could change Loras, he’d been almost certain of it even. Loras had so clearly loved him that he’d always thought it only a matter of time before he agreed to give up a habit that so clearly upset him.

“I’ve tried too,” she admitted. “But there’s no changing people who don’t want to be changed, regardless of how much they love you.” She looked at him earnestly. “And I promise you, he did love you. He told me many times. I imagine my brother lied about a great many things but he won’t have lied about that.”

“I never thought he had done,” Renly told her.

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence and she reached into her handbag to break it. “He wanted you to have this too.” She passed him a black key.

Renly took it from her and turned it over in his hands. “What is it?”

“It’s the keys to that car he got given. Red, and still parked round the corner I believe.”

Renly had forgotten about the car and he took a deep breath, trying not to think of how perfect things had seemed between them when Loras had presented the shiny red car to him. Neither of them had ever driven it.  “I can’t take it,” he told her weakly. “I don’t even want to think about how much that car costs and it was given to him, not to me.”

She rolled her eyes and closed his fingers around the key regardless. “Keep it,” she smiled. “Save him the trouble of selling it. It’ll make him happy.”

Renly made to argue again but she raised her eyebrow and so he nodded thickly, slipping the key into his pocket. Looking around, his eyes fell upon the half-completed photo album, the stacks of school photos that he'd removed lying in three equal piles next to it, all of Stannis' placed face down. Sighing, he picked it up and handed it to her. It was a pathetic offering considering that Loras had left a virtually priceless car for him, but he supposed Loras might like to be given something.

“It’s not finished," he mumbled, "but he might like to look at it once in a while or something. I suppose I made it thinking he might come back."

Quietly, she turned the album over in her hands before sliding it into her bag. 

“Do you think he _would_ come back?” Renly whispered. “If I asked him to?”

She paused, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yes,” she said eventually, “I think he probably would. I think he’d probably do anything and everything you asked him to, except the one thing you need him to.”

Renly nodded, tears threatening to well up again.

“I can give you his new number if you like,” she said softly, “if you wanted to ask him.”

Renly scrunched his eyes up. It was tempting, desperately tempting, the idea more seductive than Loras had ever been himself. Dangerously sweet, it seemed like the answer to all his problems, and yet Renly knew that it would be nothing of the sort. Loras had made it clear where he stood, he had as well, he supposed, and as his sister had pointed out so miserably to him, he couldn't change someone who didn't want to be changed, no matter how much he wanted to. 

“No,” he breathed, his head hung low. “It’s fine.”

She paused, hand on the door handle. “I think that’s wise,” she said ever so quietly. And with that, she was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

_Loras Tyrell this morning confirmed he has split from 26-year-old Renly Baratheon after seven months of dating. The British model, who will turn 22 next month, admitted the split to reporters at a press conference in New York, saying “unfortunately it is true that Renly and I are no longer together. Obviously though, I wish him all the happiness he deserves and thank him for the time we've shared together."_

_Chic but casual in skinny jeans and a Calvin Klein shirt hot off the New York catwalks, he went on to insist that the split "was mutual, something we both decided was for the best." Asked whether he was still in contact with his now ex-partner, he admitted that he wasn't, saying "no, not at the moment,  but we remain on amicable terms."_

_Renly Baratheon was unavailable for comment._

“Amicable terms?!” Renly laughed as he closed the browser tab. It came out as more of a choked sob. "Amicable terms, _my arse._ ”

He supposed that Loras claiming the split as mutual was for the best- it was certainly less embarrassing than having everyone know he'd been walked out on- but still, it felt a little strange reading about a decision he'd supposedly made sensibly with Loras. It was trending on Twitter as it was, under the hashtag # _LorasTyrellSingleAgain_ , but Renly had to bitterly wonder how much more attention it would have got if the media had been given the full story. He imagined that  _#LorasTyrellCocaine_ might have strained Twitter's servers.

Sansa made no reply to his remark, quite possibly because she'd already listened to Renly rant about the ludicrousness that was _amicable terms_ once that morning. She just looked at him, pity in her large blue eyes. Loras' letter still lay on her desk, for Renly had shown it to her that morning, and she picked it up, a soft sigh escaping from between her lips. "He really can't spell can he?" she breathed as she glanced back down at it.

Renly shrugged. "I thought he'd done rather well actually, for him." He'd only noticed a few mistakes, which considering the length of Loras' letter was rather astounding. He supposed that Loras had probably taken some time over it. He could imagine him now actually, sitting alone in bed in a hotel room, poring over what he'd written before copying it out in his best handwriting. it made Renly's heart ache and he couldn't help but wonder how Loras was, behind that smile he put on for the cameras. And as much as Renly wished he could say that he hoped Loras was well, as in good spirits as he always appeared to be on his increasingly numerous nights-out, secretly he rather wished that he wasn't okay, that Loras couldn't cope without him and would come crawling back, _needing_ him. God it would feel good to be needed.

Sansa's voice broke him from his thoughts. "You've got sixteen more," she told him matter-of-factly. 

Renly didn't need to ask what she was referring to. Since news had officially broken of his split from Loras, emails had been flooding his inbox, reporter after reporter offering deal after deal. Some wanted statements, some wanted interviews, some even wanted to schedule TV appearances on chat shows. 

He groaned. "Delete them all."

She sighed and he heard the sound of her clicking away. "There's not a magazine that hasn't got in touch," she said. "You've got OK!, TMZ, Baelish, the Sun, the Mirror, the Daily Mail, Hello!, People. I can’t understand how they all got your email address quite _so_ quickly.”

Renly put his head in his hands. “Because my email address is Renly.Baratheon@Baratheon.co.uk just like yours is Sansa.Stark@Baratheon.co.uk.”

“Ah yes,” Sansa said, laughing to cover up her error. “Not very imaginative is it?”

“Well that’s what you get when Stannis sets up the email system,” Renly muttered. He supposed it was of little matter really. Sooner or later he imagined that someone somewhere would have got hold of his email address, regardless of how obvious it had been. In this case it just happened to have been sooner. 

“Are you not even a little tempted?" Sansa asked, swivelling round on her chair.

“No,” Renly sighed. “I’m not giving a single interview, not even if Perez Hilton asks me himself. Even if _amicable terms_ makes me rather fancy it.”

Miserably, he wondered if Loras was frightened of the amount that Renly could tell. It would be easy to ruin his career, Renly thought, to destroy his reputation, to leave it in tatters, to leave _him_ in tatters. Far far too easy. Sighing, he supposed that Loras had to be aware of how little Renly would have to say to ruin him. That was the reason why he'd said he'd match and double any offers the press made him. It was an promise made with a desperation to keep him quiet, to gag him. An unnecessary one, Renly had to admit. He wasn't about to sell Loras out.

He had at least a little pride left.

 

* * *

 

 

His split from Loras had turned him into a selfish person, Renly thought. Not only did he look at every photo taken of Loras and hope the smile he wore in it were fake, but he was also secretly a little glad when Sansa was turned down by the first client her agency had sent her to. She'd agreed to stay as Renly's Personal Assistant for the time being, but Renly knew that that would only last as long as she had no income from elsewhere. As useless a PA as Sansa was, the prospect of her leaving and of him having to interview new candidates- or take another daughter of one of Robert's friends as was often the case- was a dire one. Frankly, just thinking of having to get through his days without Sansa made him want to hand his notice into Robert as well. 

Most of their time they passed as they usually did, alternating between their work and judging passing men who passed in the corridor outside on their looks in a slightly desperate attempt to stop him think about Loras. It got him through the day and Renly wasn't sure what he'd have done either if he didn't have her to answer his phone. Once it had become clear that he wasn't about to be responding to any of the offers sent to his inbox, reporters had turned their attentions to the phone. They rung him up in droves, each one launching into talk of interviews and deals, or even the chance to write a section in a biography of Loras that some American fool was half way through writing.

Sansa dealt with each one calmly, answering the phone like the young lady her mother had brought her up to be. She was polite and professional, even if she wasn't entirely convincing when she told each reporter that Renly couldn't come to the phone right now. Usually, she took messages just to shut them up, writing each one down neatly on coloured post-it notes that Renly and Sansa later enjoyed putting through the shredder. 

They were half way through that mornings' post-it notes when they got a call through from reception. There was someone downstairs to see Renly, they were told. 

"Have we anyone in the diary?" he asked Sansa wearily. He couldn't remember there being so, but then again, this week he'd run the dishwasher twice without remembering to put dishwasher tablets in. His memory was definitely failing him.

"No," Sansa told him, opening the leather diary she kept rather haphazardly for him to this week's page. She paused, taking a gasp. "I bet it's Loras."  
  
Renly's heart took an involuntary leap inside his chest before he managed to control himself. He couldn't dare to let himself hope; the disappointment would be too much to bear. "I doubt it," he said warily. "Why would he come to work instead of to the flat. It makes no sense."  
  
Sansa seemed to sense his reluctance to get his hopes up and she didn't push it. "Yes," she agreed. "You're probably right." She stood. "I'll go and see who it is, shall I?"

Renly nodded.

She wasn't gone long and soon he heard her footsteps returning in the corridor. Two sets of footsteps.

“Mr Baratheon,” Sansa’s voice came through the office door alongside a rather tentative knock. His heart sunk. She wouldn't have addressed him so formally if it were Loras she'd had with her. He'd always been nothing but Renly to Loras, or Ren sometimes. It was odd, he thought. Loras was the only person who had ever thought to shorten his name. 

“Yes," he called. "Come in."

The door swung open and a man stepped in, ahead of Sansa, as if he were the head of the company instead of Robert. The first thing that struck Renly about him was his outfit. He was dressed strangely, Renly thought, in clothes that might have been in fashion a decade ago. A small man, he seemed unhindered by his short stature and he twirled his laughing stock of a beard around his little finger with a smug sort of satisfaction as if the very world was his oyster. He was evidently suffering from small man syndrome, Renly thought wearily, and he suspected that his ego might be bigger than even his own or Loras'. 

“It’s a pleasure,” he said jovially all the same as Sansa left them to it, almost sighing with the effort. It was odd for Robert to send him a client without previously telling him but he was employed to do a job after all, even if sounding cheerful was more of a challenge than he could comfortably bear. “I’m sorry but I don't think we've been introduced?"

“No, Mr Baratheon,” the man agreed with a small smile. “We haven’t. You can call me Petyr.”

Renly extended his hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure _Petyr?_ ” There was something about this man that rubbed him up the wrong way. Perhaps he was intolerant, but Renly suspected the man rubbed many people up the wrong way with his stupid little goatee and silky  _you can call me Petyr._

The man though shook his hand with a firmness that Renly grudgingly had to respect. “We haven’t met," he said, "but we’ve corresponded of sorts.” He took a seat without being offered one. “I can only speak for myself though, but I prefer to do my business _in person_.” 

“Right…” Renly said, taking a seat too. “Well what is your business, Petyr?”

A glint came to his grey eyes. “Why, Mr Baratheon, my business is knowledge.”

“ _Knowledge_ ,” Renly repeated dryly. This man spoke in riddles and it annoyed him. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean sir. Perhaps you might like to give me your business card.”

“As you like,” A hand with thin fingers slipped into a pocket and drew out a pristine business card. A bird was printed on it, white with black wings. 

Renly took it. The card was a good weight between his fingers, expensive, with a smooth, matt finish. For all the man's talk, he was evidently a professional in whatever field he was in and Renly glanced down at the name printed beneath the bird. It made him startle. He hadn't known what he had been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been that. He suddenly wished Sansa had stayed. She'd left him in the lion's den alone, and for once he wasn't even talking about Robert's business partners. 

“You’re Petyr Baelish,” he said slowly, warily. “Magazines are your business.”

He smiled, shrugging airily. “Magazines, knowledge. The gap is small Mr Baratheon. Knowledge is what the media is. An indestructible force driven by our desire to _know_.”

How he'd got a visitor's pass, Renly had no idea, but he cursed whoever had let him in. Petyr Baelish was evidently a powerful man, perhaps even more powerful than Robert in his way, and Renly suspected that much of what was portrayed in the media was dependant on his whims. He was a master of puppets, a hand on every string and a finger in every pie. But quite honestly, Renly wouldn't have cared if it were the queen herself sat in front of him, he wanted that man out of his office. 

He frowned. “Mr Baelish, please state your business clearly or leave.”

Baelish seemed unfazed by the turn in Renly's manners and his eyes twinkled. “I come with an invitation,” he said softly. He oozed charm and charisma, dangerously so, and Renly almost expected to see a forked tongue sliding from in between his teeth. He might have had a bird printed on his business card, but Renly sensed he was more of snake, devious by nature. 

“You want me to give you the inside scoop on Loras,” he said bluntly. He didn't bother posing it as a question. 

Petyr Baelish shrugged lightly. “Yes,” he admitted. “I hope that we will talk about Loras Tyrell. But more importantly, I invite you to be one of my friends.”

“One of your friends?” Renly raised a sceptical eyebrow. He didn't want to be one of his friends. 

“Yes, Mr Baratheon. I’m good to my friends and my friends are good to me." A small smile came to his face, lighting up still handsome features. "A symbiotic relationship if you like. One that flourishes in mutual harmony.” Bending, he slid a piece of paper out of his briefcase. “You might give me answers to the questions on this sheet for instance. And I might be a giving friend in return.”

Renly glanced at them. They were pre-prepared interview questions, the sort he might have expected. _How did you and Loras Tyrell meet? Who made the first move? What's his worst habit? What's he like in bed? What's the sexiest thing you've ever done together? Who wore the trousers in your relationship? Why did the two of you break up? Do you see a reconciliation on the cards?_ The list went on and on and Renly let the piece of paper fall to his desk.

“I’m not interested.”

“Every man has a price,” Baelish smiled. He didn't seem too bothered by Renly's refusal. “There’s always something we want, something we desire. Fame, glory, love, _money_.” He slipped another thing out of his briefcase and Renly could see that it was a cheque book. Opening it, he ripped the perforated edge with practised fingers before taking a fountain pen from his jacket pocket. In very neat handwriting, he wrote Renly's name on it. Unlike Loras had done with the cheques for the rent, he spelt his name correctly first time. 

He pushed it across the table. “Think of this as an offering of our budding friendship.”

“It’s blank,” Renly said dryly, pushing it back across the table with disdain. “Worthless.”

“Worthless?” He gave a tight smile. “I beg to differ. Blank cheques are bursting with possibilities.”

Renly snorted. “Zero being one of them.”

“Yes, and 300,000 being another.” A wry grin came to his face. “Which I always triple for my friends.”

“Your _friends?"_  Renly queried wearily. He imagined that usually he'd have been better equipped to deal with a man like this, more skilled at playing him at his own game, but quite honestly, he was exhausted. Loras' absence kept him awake at night and he imagined it would do for a long while, until he finally got used to life without him again.

“Yes,” the man said lightly. “My friends. Those who speak to me and only me. Exclusivity has its own price doesn’t it Mr Baratheon?” He took his fountain pen and slowly wrote a number 1. Renly then watched as he added the 0s. One, two, three, four, five, six zeros. He stopped at six. One million pounds. He didn't sign it. 

“I’ll leave it on the desk,” he said mildly as he rose. "Perhaps you shall change your mind."  
  
"I won't," Renly promised him, surprised himself by the bitterness in his voice.

Petyr Baelish shrugged at him. "Loyalty is always a curious thing," he remarked softly from the doorway. "But Loras Tyrell is gone now. It'll be a fortnight before he steps out with someone new; his management will demand it, I promise you." He paused, hand on the door handle. "You're a sensible man, Mr Baratheon. Perhaps you ought to think about forging some _new_ friendships."

Renly merely turned his face away. He was pleased when he heard the door click quietly shut. 


	21. Chapter 21

Renly wasn't left alone for long and he almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Sansa returning, the clicking of her heels oddly reassuring on the marble floors. It had obviously spread through the corridors that he'd had an unexpected visitor though and he groaned to see Jaime following in her wake, blond hair pushed back off his face and a casual smile on his face that could mean anything. One thing was clear though; he evidently thought that there was gossip to be had. He wasn't wrong.

Indeed, they didn't waste any time. "Who was that man?" Sansa asked as soon as she was in the door. She shivered, her long red hair dancing like a flame. "He looked at me like I was something he wanted to eat."

Renly nodded grimly. With her very long hair and even longer legs, he imagined that a lot of men looked at Sansa like she was something they wanted to eat. He hadn't yet seen Sansa and her new boyfriend together but he imagined that Sandor Clegane looked at Sansa like she was something he wanted to eat. It had been a while since Renly had seen the man they called the Hound, but the thought of him touching Sansa made his skin crawl. As Loras himself had admitted to him in his letter, Renly had been significantly stronger than Loras, but that difference in force was magnified ten fold between Sansa and Sandor. The man could snap her like a twig.

He had completely lost track of what Sansa had asked and looking up, he was almost surprised to see Sansa and Jaime's faces staring back at him.

"Hello?" Jaime waved a hand in front of his face. "Earth to Renly,"

"Sorry," Renly muttered. "Yes, my visitor. I thought you might have recognised him, Sansa. His name was Petyr Baelish."

“Oh," Surprise writing itself across her face, Sansa turned around as if the man still might be there, lingering like an unpleasant smell. “God, I've read every issue of his magazine, but I never expected him to look like that. I thought he’d be taller, bigger.”

Renly just sighed. He would have thought so too. He supposed that it was odd. Millions all over the world read Petyr Baelish's publications, but he doubted that anybody ever wondered about the man behind the words. Baelish. It was a global entity, more than just a single man, a media empire one could say, one whose arms reached to every corner of the globe in a way that even the British Empire's never had.

"He wanted an interview," Sansa said slowly. "Didn't he?"

Renly laughed ruefully. "Of course he did."

It was only then that Sansa and Jaime seemed to notice the cheque that still lay on his desk and Renly sighed as he saw their eyes widen. Jaime, he knew, was probably having conflicting feelings. He'd lived a gilded life for thirty years, money appearing in his hands as if it grew on trees. His father had handed him his living on a plate, and Jaime had had designer clothes, flash cars, everything that a young man could want that money could buy. Needless to say, that enviable private income had all dried up as soon as he'd started dating Brienne, who was deemed as Tywin put it unsuitable. Cut off from the bottomless pool of wealth, which had bailed Robert out of bankruptcy more times than Renly could count, Jaime had suddenly had to learn the value of money.

"That's a big cheque," he remarked to Renly, eyebrow quirked. "Are you just going to ignore it?"

"Yes.”

Sansa sighed, perching on the desk. “All that just for an interview?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t elaborate. For all I know I might have been signing my soul away.”

"I think it's lovely that you said no," Sansa said, a faraway look in her eyes. "It's so romantic."

Renly shrugged. “What else could I do? Loras practically begged me to say no. You don't say you'll match match and double any offers unless you're seriously worried about it."

“So there’s a metaphorical cheque for _two_ million pounds in your hand,” Jaime smirked.

“I suppose," Renly sighed. “But how much of a prick would that make me?” Loras would be hurt, he knew, if he cashed in on the promise he'd made him. Two million pounds would no doubt be but a drop in the ocean for Loras, a reasonable sum to protect his reputation, but Renly thought it would break Loras' heart to hear that he'd been asking for money to keep quiet. Loras had once admitted to Renly that he feared being loved for nothing but his fame, for his money. Renly imagined that ringing up his publicist and asking for two million pounds might only convince him of that, convince him that Renly had never truly loved him.

“I don’t want to be that guy,” he told Jaime with a shake of his head. “It's a question of respect really. It’s not like I need the money. Yes, being a millionaire would be lovely but I could sell that bloody Lamborghini for starters if it were money I were after.”

“I’d forgotten about the car,” Sansa admitted. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Er, drive it?” Jaime suggested.

“Yeah maybe,” Renly said, though quite honestly, he wasn't sure if keeping it was for the best. He wanted it, that much was clear, wanted to drive it around with the top down in summer and collect enviable glances from every passer by, but there was no denying it- it wasn't exactly the most practical of cars. Loras, or Loras' eldest brother more like, had sorted out the insurance on it for this year, for even though it had no registered driver as of yet, it was parked on the road and so needed a tax disc. Loras had also paid for this year's parking permit, which at central London prices, Renly didn't really want to think of the cost of. All in all, taking into account the astronomical price of petrol and the fact that it took light years to drive anywhere in London, Renly knew that he'd do better to sell the very handsome car, make a hefty profit and be done with it.

“Or else," Jaime laughed, "you could give it to my brother. He’s always saying that sports cars attract women more than deep pockets even. What he’d give to cruise around in a Lamborghini picking up nice girls who simply need a lift from street corners." He grinned. "The booster seat he'd need might detract _a little_ from the appeal, but cars like that are an undeniable babe magnet."

Renly rolled his eyes. "If anyone’s driving it, it’s me.” He gave Jaime a pat on the shoulder. "Though obviously I can do without the babe magnet aspect."

“That reminds me," Jaime quipped, a smirk tugging at his face, "When are you going to get back out there?”

Renly almost groaned at the question. Usually, he had no real trouble with moving on from his exes, but Loras, he imagined, would be a different kettle of fish altogether. “Not yet,” he sighed. Not when he still expected each morning to wake up and find Loras beside him in bed.

“A quick shag would do you good,” Jaime laughed. “I’ll tell you what, we’ll all go out this weekend. Tyrion will recommend a good place.”

Renly raised his eyebrow. “Even if I wanted to, I’m not ever going to score in any place Tyrion can.” He supposed that that was stretching the truth a little, for usually, there were a few similarly orientated men in most bars or clubs, but he certainly would never have a lot of choice. And whilst he would like to say that he wasn't overly shallow, he knew far too well that he could be more than a little picky when choosing a new partner. Dating Loras for the past half a year probably wouldn't have helped with that either. Renly had had some attractive boyfriends in the past, handsome men, in their prime, but Loras was inarguably the hottest man he'd ever dated. It had no doubt skewed his standards even further.

“Fine, we’ll go to a gay bar then," Sansa laughed. “It'll be nice for me and Brienne. We can have a good night without lecherous creeps hitting on us all evening.”

Renly didn't point out that that was a problem Brienne didn't usually have. He just sighed. “No really,” he began to protest. "I don't even particularly want to go out."

"But we should!" Sansa insisted.

Renly opened his mouth to protest once more, but the look on Sansa's face stopped him. She would be adamant that they should go out, and besides, Renly supposed that nobody could _force_ him to hook up with someone if he didn't want to. The sight of Jaime being hit on by a constant stream of men looking to take him home on the other hand would make it all worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly spent a while deciding where to go. He supposed it needed to be somewhere where Sansa, Jaime and Brienne would feel reasonably comfortable; for some bars, he knew, got a little high and mighty when it came to letting straight people join their ranks. Of course, _technically_ , they weren't allowed to discriminate, and it was usually the rowdy hen parties who screamed and squealed in delight at every drag queen and basically made everyone's night a misery that most bars kicked up a real fuss about, but many places now had an albeit unofficial policy that they wouldn't let women or straight men through their doors.

Anywhere which advertised all fetishes welcome as their main selling point was also out- Renly imagined that both Brienne and Sansa would get a little shell-shocked, as was anywhere which Renly thought of as a cruising club. Whilst he himself didn't usually mind the fact that the men there were looking for sex and only sex, Renly didn't think that watching pairs of men lead each other off in the direction of the back room was what his friends had in mind for the night either.

In the end, he settled for somewhere very tame. Just off Leicester Square, Renly thought Ku Bar was a little naf, but the crowd was young and it was pretty relaxed. It had hot men in very little clothes tending the bar, and pictures of Abercrombie models lined the walls. Sansa at least would be happy.

It felt weird getting ready to go out. Whilst he wouldn't say that he'd exactly come around to the idea, he supposed that Jaime and Sansa had been right in some ways. Already, he'd spent a significant amount of time this week having to think about something other than Loras. In his search for a suitable place to go out to, he hadn't even had time to read his usual daily dozen articles about Loras. At the very least, it had taken his mind off missing him a little.

Aside from that, he supposed too that it had given him some motivation to tidy his flat. Whilst the thought of sleeping with anyone but Loras still seemed strange to him, he knew that that might change once he was drunk and a handsome man had taken an interest in him. The thought of bringing someone back to a mess though made his skin crawl and so the piles of laundry that had built up got done, the dishes got washed, he changed his sheets. In some ways it felt like he and Loras had been dating forever, but in others, it seemed like just yesterday that he was tidying his flat in preparation for Loras coming over, changing his sheets in case it was Loras that he brought home with him.

It seemed like ages too since he was going out to mingle with other gay men. He and Loras had been out a fair bit, usually to events Loras was supposed to go to, but they’d never been to a gay bar together. It was odd, Renly thought, as he selected a particularly flattering shirt. For all that Loras seemed to be hell-bent on partying each night of the week now, he hadn’t been all that keen on it whilst they'd been together. Usually, they'd merely gone out for dinner, caught a few drinks at some star-studded event that Loras had to appear at, and then they’d gone home. Loras had always been happiest curled up on the sofa with him, or watching a film in bed, his head leant against Renly's shoulder.

He almost cursed himself when he realised that thoughts of Loras had crept back up on him, and he staunchly banished even _thinking_ his name as he finished getting ready.

 

* * *

 

 

It had obviously been Brienne who had booked the taxi, for they turned up at ten thirty on the dot, Jaime in the front of the seven-seater whilst Brienne sat behind. Renly slid in to join her, noting with a little disappointment that Brienne was wearing the same shabby blue dress that she'd worn to Sansa's Christmas dinner party, where Loras had mistaken her for a man. It looked even more threadbare now, the hem a little frayed and the fabric a little thin where it had been washed too often. Next to Jaime, she was a pauper next to a prince.

It didn't take them too long to swing by Sansa's place, and she, at least, looked very elegant in a twenties-style dress and very high heels. She'd obviously spent a little too much time watching the Great Gatsby, Renly thought.

“Right,” Renly smiled once Sansa was settled next to him. “That’s all of us." He leant forward to give the cabby their destination, trying not to look at the price they'd already clocked up.

“No wait,” Sansa cried. “We’ve still got to pick up Sandor.”

They all fell silent.

“We’re taking Joffrey's pet dog on a night out?” Jaime clarified, eyebrow raised. He was voicing what the rest of them didn't dare to.

"Well why not?" Sansa seemed affronted, and her lips pursed, she folded her hands in her lap. She was not impressed, which Renly thought a little hypocritical of her. Often, he got the sense that Sansa was a little embarrassed of Brienne coming along, with her boyish haircut and usual outfit of jeans and trainers. Renly would have thought she might understand why the idea of taking Sandor Clegane out with them was a little strange.

He laughed nervously. “Really, Sansa, are you sure this is his sort of thing?”

“Well no," she pouted, "but I want him to come. I want him to meet you.” In defiance, she leant forward and recited his address to the cabby.

“We’ve met many times,” Renly pointed out as she did that. “He works for my family remember. He's Joffrey's bodyguard. He's been present at every birthday party, every function. We're rather well acquainted.” And not too fond of each other, Renly wanted to add. He had no soft spot for the burnt man whose life ambitions apparently were to trail around after a spoilt vicious idiot.

“Yes," Sansa agreed. "but you’ll be meeting him on different terms now.”

Renly didn't argue and soon they drew up outside a flat, Sandor Clegane's flat. Just outside of Brixton and not too far from the garage where Gendry and Arya worked, it was in a rather grimy area. Not because Sandor Clegane was particularly hard up but because Sandor Clegane wouldn’t be seen dead living amongst nice middle class folk who'd sneer at him as he walked by. The walls of his place were grey with dirt but Sansa’s touches could already be seen. There were hanging baskets outside, and a home sweet home mat in front of the door which made Renly want to burst out laughing.

None of them spoke as Sandor appeared in the doorway and got silently into the car.

 

* * *

 

 

The club was as Renly remembered and he was glad with his choice. Sansa seemed delighted by the scantily clad men who took her order at the bar, and she blushed as Sandor grunted beside her about the _pretty boys_ the bar staff consisted of. The music too was suitable- a mix of songs that were currently in the charts and popular classics. Usually, Renly would have wanted something a little more off the beat and track but this way, Brienne at least recognised a few of the songs, and she could hum along to the choruses whilst shuffling her feet awkwardly to the music.

And actually, whilst Renly and Sandor had found very little to say to each other in the cab- to Sansa's disappointment, both of them had been quite content with settling for an uncomfortable silence rather than uncomfortable chat- Renly found that he thought it for the best that Sandor had come along. It meant that he didn't have to babysit her and constantly worry about her having a good time.

He had been right, however, when he'd thought that Sandor wouldn't fit in too well. In a crowd of trendy young professionals, most of them men seeking other men, Sandor Clegane stood out like a sore thumb. He towered over every man in the bar, and many times he was mistaken for a bouncer. Twice, he was asked for help throwing a particularly rowdy person out. He did have other uses though. Whilst usually, Renly relied on Sansa flirting her way to the front of the queue at the bar, that tactic was rather redundant in a gay venue. Men naturally gave Sandor Clegane a wide berth though, and the bar men served him out of fear rather than anything else.

All in all, Renly was glad he had come, and not only because he was good at pushing his way to the front of the queue. Renly found it hilarious to watch men interact with him. Whilst he terrified men and women alike face on with his burn scars and threatening presence, from the back, he appeared to men as a tall, exceedingly muscular guy who would be able to throw them around, dominate them. They’d start grinding on him and Sandor would turn around, a face like thunder. They’d end up invariably on the floor, Sandor’s hands having put them there. Needless to say, none of the real bouncers made no move to throw _him_ out.

Jaime, too, got his fair amount of attention. More so than Sandor. This was possibly because he was a thousand times more attractive, but also perhaps because he didn’t have such an obvious deterrent as Sandor did. Sansa hanging on the Hound’s arm made it rather obvious that he was straight, but Brienne didn’t do the same job for Jaime. Men saw her, wondered what a handsome-looking chap like Jaime was doing with such a plain bloke, and then sought to take him for their own. Needless to say, Jaime handled the attention better than Sandor Clegane did, and more often than not, just laughed it off, used as he was to being admired by men, women and children alike.

And after his fourth round of shots, Renly found himself beginning to enjoy himself too. The attention he got was nice, made him feel wanted again. Mixed with the haziness provided by vodka, it was enough to at least blur his memories of Loras, to help him forget about the boy who, half a world away, would probably doing exactly as he was now, paying in dollars instead of pounds and ordering vintage bottles of champagne instead of overpriced cocktails. It reminded him that there was a world outside the one he'd built with Loras, and whilst he knew that that the relief from missing him was only temporary, that it would fade as soon as the alcohol left his system, he grasped it with both hands.

He lost count of the number of handsome men who showed interest in him, and encouraged by Sansa's smiles from across the bar, he tried not to think about how each one of them was guilty of not being Loras.

 

* * *

 

 

He'd sworn blind that he wasn't interested in taking someone home with him, but the fact that he'd bothered cleaning his flat just in case had probably always hinted otherwise. He took a cab home before the others, just sober enough to give his address to the taxi-driver without slurring his words incomprehensibly. The guy he'd chosen had one of those run-of-the-mill names that Renly was sure he would be able to remember if he really put his mind to it, and Renly was proud of himself- he'd managed to steer himself away from anyone who could possibly remind him of Loras.

A little shorter than Loras, the man sat next to him in the cab was stockier, and when the cab pulled up outside his flat and they all but pulled each other inside, Renly had muscled shoulders to hold onto instead of Loras' slim, almost fragile frame. He was solid, wasn't breakable, and had an easy smile where Loras would have smirked at him.

Renly groaned as they fell onto the bed together, him underneath, the other guy's weight warm and satisfying above him. Whether this would be good for him, he had no idea, but it felt good in the moment. It had been so long since he’d been close to another person like this. It was a month since Loras had disappeared, but more like six or seven weeks since they’d been intimate, not counting that last night which Renly still felt terribly guilty about.

All the same, it was... _odd_. His new partner kissed differently to Loras, he moved differently. He smelt different, felt different under his hands, even tasted different on Renly's tongue. He was sensual where Loras had been slightly awkward, generous where Loras had initially been selfish. His elbows weren't sharp, his legs not too long for his own good, and he laughed against Renly's mouth whereas Loras had always taken sex quite seriously.

He was vocal about what he wanted and he put himself on top, sinking down onto Renly's cock as soon as he'd slid the condom on for him. Renly almost groaned with the pleasure of it. He'd forgotten how much he liked it like this, how much deeper he went with every thrust. He’d tried it only once with Loras on top, very briefly before they’d stopped. Loras had had little natural rhythm atop him, but more importantly, he’d been so bony that Renly had felt like he had a bundle of knives straddling him.

It was nice now though, to relinquish the control to someone else and just lie back and enjoy the ride. With Loras, he'd somehow ended up being responsible for everything. He'd taken care of the condoms and the lube, he'd readied Loras. _Hell_ , most of the time, he'd even been the one to suggest that they have sex in the first place, not that Loras had ever once refused. It was only now, lying underneath somebody else who clearly knew what he wanted, that he realised how pliant Loras had been. Whereas he'd been stubborn and opinionated in every other aspect of his life, he'd been all but a passenger as soon as their clothes had come off. Not once had Renly heard “I want this” or “I fancied doing that" from him- he’d not once suggested something for them to try. Instead, he’d always done as they usually did, unless Renly specifically told him otherwise.

And as the guy whose name Renly still couldn't remember's hips rocked up against his, Renly supposed that it was at least partly his fault that his and Loras' sex life had been so mediocre. He could have probably moulded him into anything he liked, something he hadn’t done for the constant fear of injuring Loras’ pride.

For really, Loras had probably been more willing to adapt than Renly had given him credit for. He remembered when he’d called Loras selfish in bed, because he never reciprocated oral sex. He’d been wounded, Renly had been able to see. He’d sulked, more than a little bit, but there hadn’t been an instance after that where Loras hadn’t dutifully bent over him and given him head each time they’d had sex, evidently affronted and embarrassed by the notion that one of his lovers had ever thought to brand him selfish. He’d not been particularly brilliant at it, but he’d done it and he’d done it often.

He supposed that Loras’ problem had been communication. Likely, he’d been like that with every one of his partners- too proud to ask about the things he wasn’t sure he was particularly good at. Likewise, his moods were so terrible that nobody would have ever dared tell him. Renly wasn't stupid; he wasn't one of those guys who bragged about how many people he'd slept with and then used it of evidence of how skilled he was between the sheets. He knew that it wasn't just practice that made one good in bed, it was listening, listening to your partner, getting feedback and taking it on board. He supposed that that definitely made him equally as guilty as Loras and his irritating lack of spontaneity had been. He’d never given Loras any feedback to take on board. He was like one of those people who moaned constantly about the state of the government, but come elections, didn’t actually vote.

It was only then that he realised he'd been thinking about Loras whilst fucking someone else, and he felt a little guilty as he turned his attention back to his partner. It was sad, he thought. The man astride him was skilled, knew how to tease his pleasure out of him slowly, knew what a man wanted and how to give it. It was the best fuck Renly had had in half a year and yet he'd still have given anything for it to have been Loras he'd brought home instead with him tonight.

The sex wouldn't have been as good, but afterwards, he'd have curled up into Renly's side, that odd smiley expression on his face that was only ever there when the two of them made love. Everything balanced, the evening would have been far superior.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I got an unexpected internship. Apologies too that very little actually happens in this chapter!

26th May 2014

_Loras Tyrell puts on a brave face after split from long-term lover Renly Baratheon. Announcing today that he will be walking at New York Fashions Week for the US branches of both Chanel and Dior Homme, in which he shall model the fashion houses’ autumn collections, the supermodel stepped out alone for a coffee in New York’s trendy Williamsburg. The star proceeded to order a latte before hailing a taxi._

29th May 2014

 _Taylor Swift gets up close and personal with model Loras Tyrell in the video for her new single 'Starlight' in which he plays the singer’s love interest. Taylor wears a vintage bathing suit for the clip as the pair frolic in an ocean under a starry sky._ _Eyewitnesses say that there was visible chemistry between the pair on set and sources close to Taylor say that she is “infatuated” with the runway star._

2nd June 2014

 _The TAYLORAS ship has sailed as fans go crazy for the loved up couple! Spotted today in Los Angeles, where some of Taylor's music video was shot, t_ _he pair held hands as they got lunch together this afternoon. Both ordered bagels before browsing the shops in Beverley Hills. Whilst Taylor is rumoured to be entirely smitten with Loras, sources close to the supermodel, however, say that it’s a relationship unlikely to last. Our fashion insider told us “it’s a question of image really. Loras Tyrell’s just a little too edgy for her, and she’s too squeaky clean for him.” Indeed, pals of Taylor say that the Love Story singer is likely to object to Loras Tyrell’s notorious love of cigarettes._

10th June 2014

_Friends of Taylor Swift hint that the singer’s fling with supermodel Loras Tyrell will soon be over. “We’re not saying that the romance is totally dead but Taylor’s going to be very busy working on her projects here in L.A,” a source told OK this morning. Loras Tyrell, meanwhile, is scheduled to appear on the runway for the release of Dior Homme's new men's collection this month._

12th June 2014

_Taylor cuts a slim figure in cut out navy dress as pals announce split from Loras Tyrell, who she has been allegedly dating for the past three weeks. Barefaced and shielding her face from the cameras, she chatted with an unknown female friend (pictured right.) Sources say she is “disappointed” that the relationship has tailed off. "She thought he was the hottest guy she'd ever been on a date with," our source told us, and we can't say that we blame her! Even with exs such as Twilight's Taylor Lautner and singer John Mayer, we think Loras Tyrell would be our choice too!_

14th June 2014

_Feeling 22! Loras Tyrell celebrates his 22nd birthday (though probably not to that Taylor Swift song!). Surrounded by other famous faces, the star shunned New York’s glitzy night club scene and attended a warehouse party in Brooklyn. Casual and bang on trend in wide block stripes, the supermodel probably had no trouble convincing the bouncers to let him and his guests through._

25th June 2014

_Loras Tyrell looks chic but agitated as he shoots an advert for Chanel in downtown New York. Delayed by the unseasonal blustery weather, the star was seen pacing irritably about the set whilst girls with umbrellas desperately tried to keep him and the clothes dry._

_Baelish spoke to the creative director, who told us:_ _“it’s no fun for anyone when the weather won’t co-operate. Hopefully it’ll clear up within a few days and we can press on. After all, we've got a great collection this year. We're looking forward to getting the advert done and to seeing how our new line is received."_

13th June 2014

_Topshop joins ranks with Loras Tyrell for their new summer collection. Titled simply Loras, the collection is set to be released in early August and will be a “fresh mix of summer florals and vintage couture.” A collection for men will follow in autumn._

17th June 2014

_LORAS TYRELL opens up to COSMO about his recent heartbreak. We sat down with him at our headquarters in New York to talk about love, family, and of course, that short but sweet romance with Taylor Swift!_

_Cosmo: Do you miss your ex? You were together for over half a year weren't you?_

_Loras: Yeah, seven months. Well obviously I miss him [Renly Baratheon] a lot, but you know, things change, people change. The time wasn’t right I guess._

_Cosmo: You clearly gave a lot up to be with him in London. Do you ever have moments where you regret your romance?_

_Loras: Of course not. Renly was one of the most genuine and lovely people I’ve ever met. He taught me a lot, gave me something long term and stable that I’d never really had before in a relationship. He kind of grounded me. With him I was just me, just Loras, instead of Loras Tyrell, the model. I’ll always be grateful to him for that._

_Cosmo: Why did you guys break up? Would you say either one of you were at fault?_

_Loras: Er, well I guess we broke up for quite a few reasons. By the end we were arguing a lot, which was a shame as we'd had such a lovely seven months together. As for fault.... I guess that both of us probably have things that we wish we'd handled differently, or things we wish we'd never said, but I suppose most of the fault lies with me. I can be quite stubborn. Compromises have never been my thing._

_Cosmo: Do you know if he has a new boyfriend?_

_Loras: Quite honestly, I’ve no idea. Knowing him, he could find himself a new man with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to. Either way, I wish him well._

_Cosmo: And Taylor….?_

_Loras: Ah Taylor.... I was wondering when we’d get to Taylor. I wish her well too. She’s a lovely girl. I had a fun fortnight with her. She’s the sort of girl my mother would love me to bring home. You know, she could be out there twerking like Miley but she’s got class, those good old fashioned values and all that._

_Cosmo: Your family have obviously supported you in your sexuality, but if we’re being candid, do you think they’d prefer it if you ultimately brought home a girl rather than a guy?_

_Loras: My parents, I’m sure, would love me to bring home anyone who made me happy. I dare say my mum though would get all pushy about grandkids if it was a girl.... Actually scrap that, she’d probably be pushy even if it was a guy. I’d probably find adoption websites in her internet history._

_Cosmo: Did you take Renly home to meet them?_

_Loras: No, unfortunately I never got round to it. He met my siblings though._

_Cosmo: And their verdict?_

_Loras: They loved him. Everyone loves Renly. That’s just the sort of person he is._

_J_ une 25th 2014

_Loras Tyrell makes festival chic look easy in sun-bleached demin shorts and sunnies. A grey hoodie slung over his shoulder and sporting very dog-eared converse, the star looked cool and comfortable as he watched Lana Del Rey perform on Glastonbury’s Main Stage._

_Visit our website to learn how to get thel look!_

June 26th 2014

_Glastonbury Star Style: Cara Delevigne and Loras Tyrell demonstrate how it’s done as they lead the festival fashion pack. Here’s how to steal their style!_

_Want Loras Tyrell’s tousled beachy hair without hitting the sand? Glamour is here to help! Just spritz a little salt spray onto your locks to add texture, let it air dry and you’re good to go!_

29th June 2014

  
 _Loras Tyrell turns heads in centre court seats at Wimbledon. Dressed for the weather in a light linen suit which was tailored to perfection, he looked every inch the British gentleman as he rubbed shoulders with Pippa Middleton._

_The pair chatted for a good few minutes before allegedly exchanging phone numbers. With an aristocratic pedigree that goes back centuries and a childhood spent in a stately home, it’s no wonder that Loras Tyrell might have caught Her Royal Hotness’ eye!_

1st July 2014

_Loras Tyrell on Wimbledon, Royals and THOSE photos of Kate Middleton. OK! Magazine's Taena Merryweather got invited into his New York for an exclusive interview and here's her report!_

_The flat I'm in with Loras Tyrell looks out over Williamsburg Bridge and whilst the view is simply stunning, I can't help but be drawn to the man sat in front of me. Perched casually on a sofa, Loras Tyrell is just as gorgeous in the flesh as he is on the runway. His curls are perfectly groomed and there's a small smile on his face that could mean anything. I feel somehow entranced by the sight of him before me, and as if some goddess is stirring inside of me, I can't help but bat my lashes alluringly at him, desperate for that smile to come my way._

_It does, several times, and it's only when he looks away that I gather the poise to study the room we're in. Recently purchased, the flat is one hundred percent Loras. A copy of Vogue lies on the table (the French edition of course as well as the US one), and a jacket that I recognise from Calvin Klein's latest collection thrown carelessly over the backs of one of the chairs (certainly not Ikea.) The room is minimalist as you might expect (and I have to wonder how much time Loras actually spends here), the only décor being a few sparse photographs that have been stood up on the shelves of a (mostly empty) bookcase. Most feature his family, all enviably good looking and all with his trademark curly hair, but there's one that stands out. It's a picture of two men with their arms around each other, smiles plastered on their faces which speak of young love._

_Ok!: Are you still in touch with your ex?_  
  
 _Loras: Which one?_

_OK!: Renly Baratheon?_

_Loras: No, we're not in touch. Maybe we would be if I was still in London, but as it is, I'm busy here in New York and he's busy with his job and all that. And it would be nice, you know [to still be in touch], but I think for the moment it's still best that we both take a little time to cool off and get to know some new people, try not to get hung up on the past and all that._

_Ok!: And you've been doing just that! We_ _saw you getting up close and personal with Pippa Middleton at Wimbledon and it was reported that you’d swapped numbers. Is that true? Could romance be on the cards?_

_Loras: I don't think so. We didn't swap numbers, she wanted an autograph, so I signed her diary for her. She seemed like a really nice girl, but as far as I'm aware she's got a boyfriend and besides, she's a good eight years older than me. I'm not sure that she's quite that into toy boys!_

_OK!: A shame! But now, the big question that has to be asked. What did you think of her famous bottom?_

_Loras: She’s got a lovely arse. And so has her sister if we go buy the recent photos taken up her skirt._

_OK!: They were indeed some very revealing photographs! What did you make of that? Did you feel sorry for the duchess?_

_Loras: Er, yes and no. Obviously it wasn’t very nice for her, but I learnt at fifteen that by keeping modelling I was basically surrendering my right to privacy. Kate knew that too when she married William. And you have to take precautions, you know, if the paparazzi are walking behind you every hour of every day and you want to limit the type of photos they can get. And if that means putting weights in your hem or wearing slightly bigger knickers to protect your modesty, then that’s what needs to be done. I thought she’d have learnt that sort of stuff ages ago to be honest. She walked right into those pictures._

_OK!: What about those topless photos of her that French Closer published last year? Would you say she walked into those too?_

_Loras: No, that’s entirely different. She was on a private beach, not out in public, and as far as I’m concerned, if she wants to sunbathe stark naked in private, that’s her business, nothing to do with the paparazzi. Whoever invented long lens cameras has a lot to answer for._

_OK!: You sound quite incensed! Have you ever found yourself in a sticky situation with the paparazzi?_

_Loras: Nothing major really. Yet. Touch wood._

11th July 2014

_DAENERYS TARGARYEN talks to CLOSER and reveals why she prefers new beau Daario Neharis to Loras Tyrell!_

_The actress, who appears this week in critically acclaimed The Meereenese Knot, in which she appears nude, started dating the model best known for his outlandish blue hair last month. We here at CLOSER asked Daenerys (please call me Dany) if she thought Daario was more of a catch than Loras Tyrell, who she allegedly went on a date with back in 2009._

_Dany: Well obviously Loras is gorgeous, and a bit of a sweetheart too so I’m told, but he’s a little too skinny for my tastes. I’ve got a lot more to hold onto with Daario, which is unsurprising seeing as he spends most of his time in the gym._

_Closer: And the blue hair…?_

_Dany: Well obviously it’s a bit out there. But Daario wouldn’t be Daario without the blue hair, just like Loras Tyrell wouldn’t be Loras Tyrell without all those curls. The gold moustache is perhaps a little too much. I'm always safe in the knowledge, I guess, that he would shave it off if I asked him to._

_Closer: And I’m sorry Dany but I’m going to ask what everyone else is thinking! Daario… does the carpet match the drapes so to speak?_

_Dany: Perhaps it does, perhaps it doesn’t, or perhaps there is no carpet,”_

19th July 2014

_Arianne Martell was photographed leaving Loras’ Tyrells New York flat in the early hours of the morning, sparking rumours that the pair have rekindled their romance._

_A source close to twenty-five year old told Baelish that the Victoria’s Secret Angel has turned to the British model for comfort amidst the accusations that her uncle is involved in the running of a Mexican drug cartel._

_Oberyn Martell was accused on Tuesday of being the mastermind behind the Mexican Drug Cartel known amongst locals as the Sand Snakes, to which several of his daughters have already been linked. Brother to retired Mexican president Doran Martell who was in office during the 1980s, Sources say the 48-year-old is unlikely to be prosecuted. Arianne Martell refused comment this morning._

_Loras Tyrell, however, laid waste to the rumours that he and Arianne were an item again. Speaking on set at a shoot for Dior, he told reporters that “Arianne is a friend who right now is going through a rather difficult time. She remains nothing but a friend.”_

_Asked then if he is still in contact with ex Taylor Swift, he apparently laughed. “Very little,” he said, “We text occasionally.”_

_Asked the same question about Renly Baratheon, the London lawyer with which Tyrell had a seven month relationship, he was a little more hesitant. “No,” he told reporters, before adding “I wish we were.”_

21th July 2014

_At a loss as to what to do with your curly hair? We have the answer. Ask Men has compiled that all important list of tips and tricks to help you maintain your curls without looking like you stepped out of Bon Jovi._

_We asked LORAS TYRELL how he keeps his curls so shiny and frizz-free and he gave us his top tips._

_“Two words,” he told us, “John Frieda. Try their shampoo and conditioner for curly hair. Their leave-in conditioner is also pretty good. Use it just out of the shower, and twist any curls that won’t behave into shape. It should prevent fly-aways.”_

27th July 2014

_Loras Tyrell flies back from New York to join his family at Ascot to watch Charming Apricot race at this year’s King George's Day racing, held in honour of the queens' late parents. The horse was bred and trained by Loras Tyrell’s eldest brother, whose own professional career was cut short in 2001 when he suffered a horrific fall in a show jumping event._

_Charming Apricot was one of the favourites to win today’s flat, with enviable odds of 7 to 1, but was pipped to the post by California Chrome and placed second, to the Tyrell family’s evident delight._

1st August 2014

 _Shoppers camp outside Topshop stores overnight in their desperation to get their hands on Loras Tyrell’s Summer Collection for Topshop. Titled 'Loras',_   _the limited edition collection sold out this morning in a little under three hours, with only large sizes remaining as of 10 am._

_Most popular was the rose print vintage tea dress (pictured below) which is now selling on Ebay for five times its face value._

_Critics have lauded the collection, saying that it’s a very wearable mix of classic vintage style and the hottest trends off this summer’s catwalk. “It’s a very difficult feat,” says Stacy London, fashion critic,“but Topshop have done what’s notoriously hard to do and managed to fuse high end fashion with a sense of timelessness.”_

_Here at Style magazine, we’re waiting eagerly now for the Men’s collection that is rumoured to follow this winter._

5th August 2014

_Taylor Swift maintains a coy silence on whether fifth album roses is named for ex-boyfriend Loras Tyrell, with whom she split last month after a very brief fling. The British supermodel famously threw roses to the crowd in Venice in 2007, walking the runaway for Valentino when he was only 15. Others, however, have suggested that the album’s title is instead a reference to previous boyfriend Harry Styles, who allegedly called her his rose and had a tattoo of the flower on his left arm._

13th August 2014

_LORAS TYRELL gives us his inside scoop on the dark side of the modelling industry and hits out at claims that he sets a dangerous example to teenagers! Here at People magazine, we sat down with the 22 year-old star to talk about what it's really like to work in one of the most pressurized industries in the world._

_People: Would you say that thin is still the idolised body shape in the fashion industry?_

_Loras: Yes, and obviously there is still pressure to be thin. Because when it comes down to it, clothes look better on slim people. The more curves a girl has, the more each garment has to be tailored to fit her so that it looks good._

_People: Do you think that’s damaging though? That young women feel that pressure?_

_Loras: Yes and no. Obviously anorexia is a terrible terrible thing, and being super skinny shouldn’t be normalised, but personally I’d be more worried about how young people are beginning to see obesity as normal. We’ve got more of a problem over here with size 20 than size 0. And whilst it’s not politically correct to slam someone for being fat, it’s kind of socially acceptable when it’s the other way around._

_People: So what would you say to those who say that you set a dangerous example to young people?_

_Loras: I’m not going to apologise for being slim. To be honest, most of those people who write those sort of comments on my twitter page are probably on their third attempt at weight watchers._

_People: So what do you make of the recent revelation that photos of you have recently appeared on pro-ana [pro-anorexia] ‘thinspiration’ websites?_

_Loras: Obviously that’s not okay, and my management are seeing that those photos are forcibly removed. I would like to point out though that my BMI is within the normal range. I’m 15 in the photos in question, and like many guys, I was naturally a lot skinnier back then than I would be now._

_People: So what would you say to girls struggling with their weight in the modelling industry?_

_Loras: Quite honestly? I’d advise them to get another job. As I said, there’s pressure to be thin here, but it’s a personal choice whether you bow to it. You can still get a job in fashion without being a model. As unfortunate as it may be, 90% of the time having to keep slim comes with the territory when you’re a model._

18th August 2014

_Loras Tyrell spotted dining out with fellow model Miles McMillan, who recently split with Star Trek Star Zachary Quinto. The pair were seen holding hands briefly upon entering the restaurant, but took separate cabs home. An onlooker at the restaurant said that there was evidently no chemistry between the two, conversation wasn't flowing, and both looked very happy when they were able to leave._

_The Metro has approached them for comment._

22nd August 2014

 _Who better to model LORAS TYRELL’s Topshop line than his SISTER!_ _Margaery Tyrell pictured out in circle skirt of her brother’s design. In a throwback to fifties fashion, the blossom print garment nipped in and showed off her tiny waist to perfection, and looked effortlessly elegant teamed with shoes and belt by Kurt Geiger._

3rd September 2014

_We love a hot celebrity man here at Cosmo and here are the ones that are making us go weak at the knees in summer 2014!_

_Leonardo de Caprio:_  Leo _first stole our hearts as young Jack Dawson in Titanic but is still doing it in 2014! Looking ever dapper on the red carpet, Leo remains one of the hottest men in Hollywood. The Wolf of Wall Street is available now on DVD and blue-ray._

 _Zac Efron:_   _This teen sweetheart has come a long way from his High School Musical days and now well into his twenties, he’s really come into his own. Just check out those abs! Who could resist such a washboard stomach?_

 _Loras Tyrell:_ _His list of ex-girlfriends reads like a Victoria Secret’s catalogue and we can see why! With curls and cheek bones that many of us girls would die for, Loras Tyrell is so divine we could eat him with a spoon. Yum!_

6th September 2014

_Loras Tyrell looks dapper on the red carpet as he attends the New York premier of Tina Fey’s This Is Where I Leave you with model Miranda Kerr, inciting rumours that the two might be an item. Oozing sophistication and with Loras' famous curls swept off his face, the pair posed for photographs before signing autographs for screaming fans._

Renly didn’t know who was responsible for starting the section of their work noticeboard that was dedicated now to clippings about Loras, but he had rather a lot of suspicion about Jaime. Oddly, his relationship with Loras seemed more interesting to his colleagues now that it was over, and every day now, almost without fail, new articles would appear overnight, pinned or blue-tacked on the noticeboard above the photocopying machine.

Many times Renly had contemplated trying to remove it, and yet after Stannis had tried in vain five times to take it down, he gave up and just learnt to tolerate it. 

It wasn’t just the office either where he couldn’t escape reminders of Loras though. Renly saw him constantly in the months that followed their split, although never in the flesh. He seemed to be suddenly everywhere- on billboards; on the covers of magazines; in the gossip column in the back pages of the Metro, that free newspaper which anyone who commuted anywhere in London couldn’t fail to read on a daily basis. It had seemed at the time that Loras had been constantly busy whilst they’d been together, and yet Renly found himself struck now by the realisation of how little work Loras had actually done during their relationship. Loras, it seemed, had made a lot of time for him that he'd never truly acknowledged. 

Renly tried not to let the constant reminders of him bother him and yet it stung that Loras didn’t seem to have wasted any time in getting over him. Barely a week hadn’t gone passed where Loras hadn’t had some model or actress on his arm. Taylor Swift had been particularly nauseating, Renly had to think. There were hardly any men though, and Renly thought that the only glimmer of hope in a rather bleak landscape, for women, he knew, meant very little when used as gauge for whether or not Loras was moving on. 

Either way though, Renly thought, it couldn’t have been possible that Loras was moving on more slowly than he was. Since that night that Sansa and Jaime had taken him out, Renly thought that Stannis’ love life had probably been more adventurous than his. He seemed to have hit a brick wall when it came to forgetting Loras, and Renly didn’t think it had helped either that Sansa now only worked part time as his PA, usually doing little more than two days a week. He'd come to rely on her more than he'd realised, and her absence in his office was almost painful, he found.

He supposed though that he couldn't begrudge her her success. She’d booked her first job in June, and since then she’d done well enough for herself considering that she was a model just starting out in a highly over-saturated market. She’d yet to be hired for anything involving runway work but she had had several commercial jobs. She’d been the model for a local hairdresser’s magazine, and photos of her glossy red locks could now be seen hung on the walls inside; she'd modelled clothes lines for several art and design students; and she'd even been featured in a low-key catalogue, a job which Sansa had been a little embarrassed about, for catalogue work really was the lowest of the low apparently. 

In many ways, Renly was proud of her, but it was hard to focus on that when he was forced to walk into his office alone, knowing that he'd have to spend the whole day working instead of procrastinating with his PA. Today, unfortunately, was one of those days, and Renly's feet dragged wearily on the stairs as he forced his way up to his office, pushing through the many suits and briefcases that the corridors seemed to consist of at five to nine in the morning.

He had a lot to get on with today and yet Renly couldn't help but stop as usual at the noticeboard above the photocopying machine. As always, a new offering had appeared there overnight, and against his better judgement, Renly glanced up to read it, seeing that it was an excerpt out of Forbes Magazine.

1st October 2014

_LORAS TYRELL falls out of the top 20 highest earning models for the first time since 2008. Previously the highest ranking male model since records began, coming in at 6th place in 2012 and 5th place in 2013, the star fell a whopping 112 places this fiscal year, thus confirming rumours that the supermodel took a hefty pay cut earlier this year in order to be released from his New York commitments._

_“It’s not that he’s not in demand anymore,” an insider said, “he’s definitely still got the selling power of Gisele and Miranda, which is unusual for a male model, but the problem was that he signed several three-year contracts back in 2012 which obliged him to work in New York until 2015. It's hard when you're only 19, to have to plan three years ahead, and as luck would have it, he_ _found himself wanting to stay in London this year. He did complete most of the projects he was legally obliged to, but mostly in Europe, and at great expense to the New York fashion houses. Forfeiting most of his pay was probably the compromise.”_

Renly just stared at that one a little dismally. He’d known Loras had made compromises to stay in London but he’d never known the details. Reading that now was a painful reminder of how serious about him Loras had once been, and he screwed up his eyes, biting back stinging tears. He wondered now whether Loras regretted those compromises, whether or not Loras deemed their time together worth it.

“Do you miss him?” a voice asked, and Renly turned to see a middle aged woman who worked on the floor above him staring at him.

He hurried on down the corridor without looking at her. “No,” he told her firmly.

“ _Yes,_ ” he whispered as soon as his office door was slammed and locked behind him. He could barely breathe, he missed Loras so much.


	23. Chapter 23

“You _are_ saying yes aren’t you?”

Sansa’s voice was accusing, her brow furrowed and her expression so hard that it made it unequivocally clear that she was leaving no room for nonsense. For once, she had a little of her father’s sternness about her, an iron will that all but entirely concealed her usual sweetness and grace. 

Renly almost expected her to start tapping her foot. “I don’t know…” he mumbled, trying to look away from her.

“ _Yes you do,_ ” Sansa retorted. “It’s been six months since you and Loras split, and it’s Christmas, you can’t turn down a date at Christmas.” She paused and then took a great breath, evidently not having run out of steam quite yet. “And I’ve spoken to Jeyne who works with him on the second floor and apparently he’s been interested in you for ages.”

“Yeah, but you know what they say about work and pleasure,” Renly said hurriedly, backing away before Sansa could strangle him with the tinsel draped across his desk. “You shouldn’t mix them. And this guy’s a well-known bootlicker, he’s probably just after a promotion or something. Thinks he can sleep and flatter his way to the top.”

“So what? It would do you good to go on a date with someone. It’s not like you’re _obliged_ to wrangle him a promotion. And he’s pretty hot.”

“Says who?” Renly quipped back.

“Says me and Jeyne.” She’d picked up the tinsel now and was winding it round her wrists, as if she was wrapping herself up to give to Sandor as an early Christmas gift. The look on her face warned Renly not to bother arguing with her.

“Fine,” Renly conceded. “He’s _passably_ attractive. But I can’t help it if I’m not interested.” He saw her open her mouth and he quickly continued. “And no, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s got nothing to do with me not being over Loras.”

“Yes,” she agreed hesitantly, the tinsel limp in her hands.

She wanted to disagree; Renly could see it on her face. She had no evidence to back her claims up though, for which Renly was glad. He personally thought he’d done rather well in regards to Loras recently. Whether he’d become desensitised, or whether time was simply a better healer than he’d given it credit for, reading about Loras’ exploits didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore. He supposed it would make sense that it was time. Apparently, the rule of thumb when it came to getting over an ex was that it should take half as long as the relationship lasted. Considering that come January, he and Loras would have been split up for as long as they’d been together, he supposed that he ought to be well on his way. Granted, he still had days that were worse than others. He definitely still had moments too where he'd have crumbled and called him if he'd had his number. All in all though, Renly didn't think he'd cried over Loras since late October, and he'd become remarkably skillful in pushing all thoughts of him to the back of his mind. 

He and Sansa were still stood in silence when the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord until Jaime’s blond head appeared around the door frame.

He read the silence like an open book. “Surely we’re not _still_ on Renly’s potential hot date?” he moaned.

“Yes,” Sansa said pointedly, hand on her hip. “We are.”

Jaime groaned audibly. “Well I’ll be back later when he’s stopped being a first class twat and has decided to go on it.”

“I’m not being a first class twat,” Renly laughed. “I just don’t see why I have to go on a date that I don’t particularly want to go on.”

Jaime didn’t even let him finish. He shut the door in Renly’s face and made his opinion on the matter crystal clear.

Renly was only halfway through a sigh when he returned though, a piece of paper in his hands. He thrust it into Renly’s hands and Renly didn’t need to ask where he’d fetched it from. It had a pin through the left hand corner and had obviously been removed from a noticeboard, probably from the one above the photocopying machine.

“Here,” Jaime grinned. “Maybe this will change your mind about not going on your potential hot date.”

Renly sighed, properly this time, and glanced down. The article was from the Daily Star and was dated the 14th of December, the day before yesterday. It was accompanied by a very grainy photo of two men locked in an embrace, their mouths smashed against each other and their legs interlaced. Whoever it was had one of his hands in Loras’ hair, the other on his arse, and most definitely had his tongue in Loras’ mouth.

Renly felt a little strange as he stared at it, and oddly detached as he read on.

L _oras Tyrell gets amorous at a New York night club as he parties into the early hours of the morning for the second night in a row,_ it read,  _The 22-year-old was photographed in a romantic clinch with a mystery man that he appeared to have just met on the dance floor._

_The supermodel looked decidedly worse for wear when he eventually left the club with his new man, and could barely stand as he made their way outside, having to be supported by bouncers. The pair then hailed a taxi together, which Tyrell also had to be helped into._

“And me reading this is supposed to achieve what exactly?” Renly asked bitterly. 

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Well Loras is getting over you,” he said dryly. An evil smirk came to his face. “In fact, he’s getting _under_ somebody else by the looks of things. You should be doing the same.”

Renly glanced back at piece of newspaper in his hands. The stir of jealousy he felt looking at it was smaller than he'd have expected, but it was there, and he sighed. Jaime and Sansa had won.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll go.” He ignored the way Jaime made a fist in victory, and turned to Sansa. “But only if you agree to be my fake emergency caller if it’s bloody awful and I need a reason to escape.”

Sansa looked as if she was about to agree instantly and then her face fell. “I’m working Friday night,” she admitted reluctantly.

Renly raised a curious eyebrow. Sansa, he knew, was still working two jobs. She did a couple of days in the office and attended appointments the industry called _go sees_ on the others, doing her best to woo clients with her long hair and her long limbs. Neither of her jobs, however, involved working on a Friday night, not that Renly knew of anyway.

“What on earth are you working _as?"_ he asked.

“Oh, well it’s this bar’s opening night- they’re opening for Christmas you see, and they wanted 'models' to stand outside and hand out leaflets.”

Renly didn’t know who laughed harder, him or Jaime.

“Right…” Jaime raised an eyebrow. “I bet your dad is so proud.”

Renly nodded, for once finding himself in agreement with Jaime. “You are going to get felt up so so much," he chuckled. He could see it now, Sansa being used as bait to tempt men inside to buy more drinks than they could afford.

“No I won’t,” she said tartly, “Sandor’s working on the door.”

Renly exchanged an amused glance with Jaime and then they both had to shrug. Neither of them could deny that Sandor at least looked after Sansa well in that regard. Hound as he was, he certainly wouldn’t let another man near her. Whether that was because he felt merely protective of her though, or whether it was because he didn’t like other guys touching his property, Renly wouldn’t have liked to hazard a guess. Either way, he knew that Sandor would be prowling about her all night like a dog around a piece of meat.

“Sounds safe then, I suppose,” Renly admitted. “Could you ask Arya to be my fake caller then? Brienne’s too moral to do it.”

“Of course I can,” she smiled. “I’m sure she’ll agree.”

 

* * *

 

 

Arya did agree. She went further than agreeing, and when Renly met Guyard outside the restaurant they’d agreed on, he was horrified to see two people he knew already sat inside at one of the tables in the corner. One was a small wiry girl in a dirty plaid shirt who wore her hair in a messy ponytail. The other was a scruffier version of Renly himself, in scuffed up jeans and a hoody, all of which had oil stains down. Both were wearing dark sunglasses.

If he’d been a lesser man, Renly might have bailed then. As it was though, he just stifled a groan, wishing he was alone and could put his head in his hands, or else run up and thump Arya and Gendry. 

“Have you reserved a table?” he asked as they walked through the glass doors. The restaurant looked busy and Renly was crossing his fingers that Guyard hadn’t booked a table. That way they might be turned away, and he could quickly find another restaurant, one which didn’t have Arya and Gendry hovering like secret agents in the corner.

Guyard bounced on his toes excitedly though at the question and Renly’s heart sank. “Of course I have,” he smiled. “It's a Friday night in the run up to Christmas. I’ll go see if it’s ready shall I?”

Renly nodded as enthusiastically as he could, and soon as Guyard had disappeared into the gaggle of waiters to inquire after their table, he sidled quickly off into the depths of the restaurant. It didn't take him long to locate his quarry and he stopped beside Gendry and Arya’s table.

“ _What are you doing here?_ ” he hissed.

Arya looked rather put out at his tone and she jutted out her bottom lip, evidently unimpressed. “Sansa said you needed me on stand-by for _intervention._ ”

Renly cringed. “Yes, but I meant a phone call, not for you to sit here!”

“Oh,” she shrugged, evidently unfazed by this revelation. “Well we’ve already ordered onion bahjis and chips, so tough luck.”

“Fine,” Renly sighed. “Well can you at least take those stupid sunglasses off? It’s December, dark out and you’re sat inside. You look like you’re working for the bloody mafia.”

Arya looked at Gendry. A strand of unbrushed hair had escaped from her pony tail and she twirled it absent-mindedly around her finger. “Gendry,” she said slowly. “Shall we take them off?”

Gendry shrugged, heavily muscled shoulders rippling beneath his thin cotton t-shirt. “Well I kinda like ‘em.”

“Me too,” Arya smiled up at Renly. “So sorry, but the sunglasses stay.”

Renly just glowered at her and made his way back to the front of the restaurant. He’d evidently been missed and Guyard was looking around for him, a confused half sort of smile on his face. He was probably wondering whether Renly had stood him up. 

“Where’d you get to?” he laughed as Renly approached.

Renly just smiled at him, that winning smile that would excuse him of any misdeed. “I was just having a look around,” he said casually, laying a hand on Guyard’s forearm to smooth things over. “This is a really nice little place that you’ve chosen.”

He then had to hide the smug grin that threatened to come to his face as he saw the effect that his tiny complement had had on his date. It was one of his many talents, Renly thought. He knew how to rub people up the right way, how to flatter and charm without being too obvious. It was a rare talent, Renly thought. One that Robert too had had in his youth.

“I’m glad you like it,” Guyard smiled back, Renly’s earlier disappearance apparently entirely forgotten. “I’ve got us a lovely table by the window. Overlooking the river and all the Christmas lights. Should be a really nice spot.”

“Great,” Renly laughed. “Let’s sit at it shall we.”

“Here,” Guyard said chivalrously as they reached their table, drawing out a chair for Renly. "You take the seat with the view out over the Thames. You can see the Millennium Bridge if you look over there.”

Renly hesitated and did a quick evaluation of the situation. If he took the seat Guyard was offering, and Guyard took the other, his date would have a direct view of Arya and Gendry. This was a problem, Renly thought. Gendry and Arya would have stood out in the restaurant at the best of times, for a pair of ragamuffins in stained jeans and creased shirts could hardly blend into the clientele at an elegant sort of place like this, but as it was, it was impossible _not_ to notice Gendry and Arya tonight. They still wore their dark sunglasses indoors and they were staring at Renly and his date as if it were them who stood out like a sore thumb.

He made the only decision he could make, and in what evidently looked like a gallant gesture to his date, he forfeited his view of the river and its Christmas lights and drew up the other chair. “No really,” he said, as he quickly sat down. “I’d really rather you took the view. You got us this lovely table after all.”

It was a crisis averted and Renly bit back a heavy sigh of relief as Guyard sat down opposite him, the man’s view gloriously absent of Gendry and Arya. It was only then that Renly was able to relax, and getting himself comfortable in his chair, he perused his date as Guyard perused the wine list.

Sansa and Jeyne had said they thought him attractive, and objectively, Renly supposed he had to agree. Guyard was certainly no Loras, but he was pleasing enough on the eye. With brown, rather straight hair though, and with dull brown eyes to match, Renly thought him rather innocuous. Even with his rather peculiar wardrobe, which oddly seemed to consist of varying shades of green- be it dark green, light green, bottle green, or mint green, Guyard most certainly wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. He was very ordinary looking, and quite honestly, Renly thought he could do better.

He supposed that the date was good for him regardless though, as Sansa had insisted a thousand times. After all, he’d accepted many months ago now that it was unlikely he’d ever hear from or see Loras again. It was a sad truth, but one that Renly thought was inarguably for the best. Whilst he could still cast his mind back and remember a time where they’d been happy together if he really tried, all that seemed clouded now, tainted by the knowledge that things between them had never been as rosy as he’d thought. The arguments, unfortunately, were fresher in his memory, along with all the tears and hurtful words that had come with them.

He looked at Guyard again. For all intents and purposes, he was an average guy, averagely attractive with an average job to go with him. As uninspiring as it all was, Renly supposed it was a damn sight better than Loras had been. Guyard, at least, was highly unlikely to be a jealousy-inclined cocaine addict.

It was with this in mind that Renly tried to turn his attention back to him. This was a more difficult task than expected though, seeing as Arya was currently waving an onion bahji at him.

“I’m really impressed with everything you and Robert do,” Guyard was in the middle of gushing when Renly did get back around to paying any mind to his date. Apparently, he’d been undeterred by Renly’s wavering attention. “I think Robert’s just the greatest boss, not that he’s my personal boss, but you know what I mean.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. Nobody had ever thought to tell Guyard apparently that talking about work was far from the most interesting starting topic for a date. It was a bore, Renly thought, and yet he did his best to feign a little interest. Boring, at least, he could handle, and it was unlikely even that he’d have to get Arya and Gendry to stage an intervention.

“So Guyard,” he smiled, taking the wine that the waiter offered him to taste and sipping it. “What is it you exactly do down on the second floor?”

“I’m a Client Data and Management Information Co-ordinator,” Guyard told him.

“Right….” Renly had no idea what that meant. All he knew was that it sounded incredibly dull and he didn’t particularly want to ask more. “And did you always want to be a Client Data and Information… whatsit?”

“No,” Guyard confessed, pouring wine for both of them. “Actually, I want to be a singer.”

“Oh really.” Renly leant in over the bread basket, slightly more interested. “What sort of music do you do?”

“Kind of like country mixed with a bit of folk. I’m sort of like an individual Mumford and Sons.” He paused, a grin coming to his face. “Actually, I’ve got a gig next week, down the local pub, if you fancied coming to watch me after work?”

“Next week?” Renly said, more to himself rather than to Guyard. “Yeah why not.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why are we here again?” Arya asked as they filed through the wooden doors. The pub was decked out with an assortment of very tacky Christmas decorations and Arya seemed unimpressed with all the sparkly tinsel and glittery fake holly.

“Renly’s boyfriend’s gig remember?” Gendry mumbled. He too didn’t seem overly fond of the decorations and he sidestepped to avoid a piece of mistletoe.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Renly said automatically.

“Which is what you said about Loras,” Sansa said smugly. She didn’t sidestep the mistletoe, and with a faraway look in her eyes, she tuned to give Sandor a tiny peck on his unburnt cheek.

Renly ignored her comment about Loras and instead looked around for a place to sit. They weren’t in luck. Ten days before Christmas, people had packed into the pub like sardines in a tin. They was barely room to stand, let alone to sit down.

“There’s no tables,” he voiced out loud.

“Oh don’t worry,” Sansa smiled next to him, her voice barely audible over the loud chatter around them. “I’m sure Sandor will get us one.”

Indeed, Sandor just grunted and pushed his way through the crowd at Sansa’s bequest. He soon located his target, and standing next to table of people who looked like they were taking their leisurely time in leaving, he waited for Sansa to catch up with him. Needless to say, handbags were quickly retrieved off the floor and arms shrugged into jackets as soon as the occupants of the table caught sight of Sandor.

“Wonderful,” Sansa smiled as she sat herself daintily down. She needn’t have bothered being dainty though, for she was soon all but crushed as Gendry and Arya squeezed past her to flop down beside her.

Renly took the other side of the table, on Arya’s other side, where he’d have a good view of the makeshift stage that Guyard would be performing on. He couldn’t feel that it was a little ironic; he’d never once seen Loras on a runway whilst they were dating, yet here he was seeing an aspiring musician play, having been on only one date with him.

Renly wasn’t quite sure why he’d agreed so readily to come, but he found he didn’t regret it as he looked around the pub, waiting for the gig to start. He had Sansa opposite him, squeezed between her sister and Sandor. Renly had to laugh as he looked at them. Surrounded by himself, Gendry and Sandor, Renly didn’t think the two Stark sisters could have looked smaller. The pair looked like miniature dolls, or else tiny sheep grazing beneath the slopes of a mountain range.

He felt a little wistful as he looked about the crowded room. The decorations were inarguably tacky, the floor a little sticky from spilt beer, but everyone looked quite into the Christmas spirit, laughing and joking as they pointed up at the mistletoe pinned to the ceiling and passed Christmas hats around. Renly knew that if he’d brought Loras here, things would have been different. People would have been pointing and staring at Loras, taking pictures on their phones or summoning up the courage to approach and ask him for an autograph. Renly had rather enjoyed the constant attention at the time- it had been flattering, rather exciting- but it was oddly liberating to be out now without him.

He tried not to dwell any further on Loras as Guyard took to the stage, a small, polite round of applause accompanying him. His set was unfussy- just him and his guitar, sat upon a chair in front of a microphone. Renly thought that promising. Guyard obviously didn’t need flashy lights and cool props to get him through his performance.

Guyard smiled at Renly as he introduced himself, and to his surprise, Renly smiled back as Guyard started to sing.

By the time he’d reached the chorus, the smile had run away from Renly’s face. He glanced at Sansa. Neither of them knew what to say, how to describe what they were listening to.

Sandor said it for them. “What the fuck is this crap?” he snorted.

It was a rhetoric question but Arya answered anyway.

“It’s bullshit,” she said bluntly, making no effort what so all to keep her voice down. “Sansa could get up on stage and sing better than that.”

“Excuse me,” Sansa retorted loftily, speaking under her breath out of politeness in stark contrast to her sister. “I can hold a tune very well thank you.”

Arya just snorted. “Liar. I hear you in the shower.”

Renly merely said nothing as they squabbled. Sandor and Arya were right, even if it wasn’t particularly polite to badmouth a performance whilst it was still underway. Guyard’s voice was nothing special, his mastering of the guitar was embarrassingly poor, and often, his chords sounded more like a cat dying than any kind of harmony. What was the most painful on the ears, however, was Guyard’s lyrics, and Renly thought his ears might bleed as he listened to nauseating line after nauseating line. Many were apparently intended to be romantic and Renly almost cringed visibly when Guyard looked his way as he whispered the particularly romantic lines huskily into his microphone.

Guyard was bloody lucky they were in a nice area, Renly thought as he winced. Whilst this audience was sitting quietly, patiently waiting for it to be over, most audiences would have been pelting Guyard with bottles full of piss by now.

It was very hard to force a smile when the set was finally over and Guyard approached him, out-of-tune guitar still in hand.

“How was I?” he beamed up at Renly as soon as he was close enough, looking all too much like an overgrown puppy that wanted to be petted for doing a good job. Indeed, where Loras had reminded Renly of a cat, lithe and elegant, Guyard was most certainly a dog- a dog that trailed after its master, desperate for a bone.

Renly managed no answer to Guyard and Guyard waved a hand in front of his face to wake him from his reverie. “Renly?” he laughed. “You still there?”

“Sorry,” Renly stammered. “I was in my own little world. You were… good. Yeah, really good!” He heard Arya, Gendry and Sandor snort behind him. Only Sansa was polite enough to keep her composure.

“You’re just being nice,” Guyard grinned, his face laden with what Renly saw in disappointment to be false modesty. Guyard evidently thought he’d done a great job, unlike every single other person who’d heard him tonight.

“No,” Renly protested exuberantly. “You were…. _interesting_. I’ve never heard anything quite like it. You’ve got your own sound you know.”

“I know,” Guyard replied, almost bouncing up and down on the spot. “I’m hoping for a record deal this year.”

Renly just nodded politely, and gave him his best fake smile as Guyard went to put his guitar away.

“All right Sansa,” Renly said as he sank heavily back into his chair. “I think we need a plan B. I know you said that dating him would be good for me, but I’ve never been more embarrassed to be seen with someone in my entire life.”

She just nodded meekly. Even Sansa couldn't argue with that.


	24. Chapter 24

Renly kept his head down as he heard the clock in the corridor strike eleven o'clock. Stannis, he knew, would be prowling around outside, going from office to office in his quest to make sure every man, woman and child was pulling their weight. Desks would be examined, browser tabs perused, internet history scrutinized; it was only when Stannis was assured that every single Facebook page was closed and every mobile was taken off the desk that he would return to his usual haunt on the thirteenth floor.

Renly could sense his brother's presence outside before he heard the door creak open. He didn’t dare look up from his work and merely set himself to typing more rapidly, fixing his face into an expression of the most intent concentration.

“Working are we Renly?” Stannis verified, glancing about the room for evidence to the contrary. His eyes lingered on the empty packet of biscuits that lay on Renly's desk that he evidently disapproved of and disdainfully, he picked the empty wrapper up and put it into the recycling bin in the corner. 

"Yes,” Renly told him dryly. “I am working. Very very hard.”

Stannis didn’t seem to pick up on his sarcasm and he merely nodded, before giving Renly a very wooden pat on the shoulder and making his way out.

It was only at half past eleven, when Stannis would have surely finished his rounds on this floor, that people started to emerge again. Fire doors that were legally required to remain shut were opened, the water cooler once more became the place to have a lengthy chat, and the corridor was suddenly bustling again with life, with people switching offices freely to have a Monday morning catch up. Indeed, it was now that Renly usually found himself sharing what he'd done over the weekend with his colleagues and so he was unsurprised when there was an immediate knock on his door.

He was wondering how best to sum up Guyard's gig when Jaime stuck his head round, a relief seeing as he and Brienne had already been brought up to date with the fiasco that had been last Friday night.

“Can I borrow you a moment?” Jaime smirked.

Renly shrugged. “Sure." Standing, he stretched a little before following Jaime out of the door. He had no idea what Jaime wanted but anything was better than drafting Robert’s new employment policy so that it would be in line with the new legal requirements brought in this month.

He followed Jaime to Jaime’s own office, unsurprised to see Brienne silently filing things away for him in the corner as she always did. Technically, she hadn't been employed to be Jaime's secretary, and quite honestly, the position was beneath her, but somehow though, Jaime had managed to swing it so that she worked all of her hours right in his office. 

“So what is it?” Renly laughed. "What couldn't wait till lunchtime?"

“I want to show you something,” Jaime grinned, pushing his blond hair off his face. He looked genuinely excited and yet Brienne stiffened visibly in her corner. She’d glanced up from the papers in her hand and there was a look in her blue eyes that worried Renly. 

“Don’t, Jaime,” she said loudly, warning heavy in her voice.

Jaime rolled his eyes. “He’ll see it anyway. So I might as well be there to see his face.”

Renly raised an eyebrow as Brienne's face merely hardened and she turned back to her filing. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

Jaime just beckoned him over to the computer at his desk. He had Renly sit down on his chair and then leant over him to bring up a web page that had obviously been previously minimized. Renly knew even then that it was going to be something to do with Loras, and sighing, he resigned himself to humouring Jaime for as long as he could bear before retreating to his office. 

_INTIMATE FOOTAGE of Loras Tyrell leaked online_ , the front page of Baelish Online read.

_Reportedly filmed during a one night stand, the star appears visibly intoxicated as he performs oral sex on another man. The four minute video clip was uploaded late yesterday night to sex-sharing site X-Tube, and attracted several hundreds of thousands of views within one hour of being posted._ _Early reports name the other man as Jayden Frey, an aspiring DJ who styles himself as JayFrey and who was pictured leaving a New York club with Tyrell last week._

_Baelish have approached Loras Tyrell for comment._

“Stupid boy,” Renly sighed, as he tried to ignore Jaime's smug smile beside him. “I’d have thought he’d have had more sense than that.” Several times Loras had told him that he'd had close calls with that sort of thing, and Renly couldn't help but feel a little disappointed in him. He'd have thought Loras more savvy than that, more capable of looking after himself. Oddly too, Renly felt a small pang of guilt as he reread the words. It was Loras who'd walked out on him, but Renly wondered whether he should have done more to convince him to stay, whether he should have tried harder to protect the boy who'd so evidently had a substance abuse problem that he needed help with. 

He supposed there was nothing he could do now though. Loras had had his chance. He knew Renly's address, he knew Renly's phone number; if Loras had wanted to rekindle contact, he'd have only had to have picked up the phone. And it would be too late now, Renly thought with a sigh. Regardless of the tiny pang of guilt that was now pooling in his stomach, Renly didn't think he could help Loras now even if Loras wanted him to. Moving on had been hard, and yet Renly reckoned he'd have no interest in getting involved again with Loras again, even if it did look like he needed a little help right now. Loras had made his bed. He would have lie in it. Without him. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by Jaime's voice. 

“Yeah," Jaime was agreeing, rereading the article too. "well I think he wasn’t in the best of states to have much sense.” He started typing into the Google search bar. “Here, I’ll show you.”

Renly stiffened in his chair. “I don’t want to see it.” he protested. Quite honestly, he couldn’t think of anything worse.

“Of course you do,” Jaime smirked, giving him a hefty pat on the shoulder. “It’s hilarious.”

“Hilarious?” Renly couldn't think of anything that was less hilarious. He wondered how Jaime would feel if it were Brienne being featured in an unwanted sex tape. 

“Yeah, hilarious," Jaime grinned as he brought a video up on the screen. "He’s so fucking drunk in it that I kept expecting him to vomit at any moment.”

Renly just shook his head, more firmly this time. “Jaime, I don’t want to see it.”

“Leave then,” Jaime laughed. Defiantly, he clicked the play button.

Needless to say, Renly didn’t leave. He found himself gripped with the same sort of morbid curiosity that came over him whenever he watched a horror film. He was glued to his seat, knowing he ought not to watch, knowing it would be painful to watch, but unable to look away.

The screen that Jaime had brought up showed a darkened room. The footage was slightly blurry, as was typical of a phone camera used in the dark, but it was clear enough that Loras was on his knees below the camera, his curly head bent over a cock that he had in his mouth. A hand that wasn’t Loras’ reached down after a few seconds to brush Loras’ hair out of his mouth.

Renly felt a little miserable as he watched. Loras, he knew, could usually take care of himself, but Renly couldn't help fear he'd been grossly taken advantage of here. It was clear that Loras could barely keep his balance, even on his knees. He was wobbly, swaying from side to side as he did his best to pleasure the man in front of him. It was only leaning against the other guy’s legs that was keeping him upright.

He evidently tried to say something several times, lifting his head up, only to have it guided back down, presumably so he wouldn't see that the guy had his phone out. Loras' speech wasn’t quite right, Renly thought rather sadly as he listened. Even allowing for the poor quality of the video, it was unintelligible, the words falling out of his mouth too quickly to be understood.

He was agitated that much was clear and Renly felt his chest tighten painfully. As the video went on, Loras kept on glancing up, his head jerking up almost like he was a puppet whose string was being pulled. He seemed somehow disorientated and he didn’t seem to be quite aware of his surroundings. He certainly wasn’t aware that he was being filmed.

“He’s confused,” Brienne said, narrating the obvious. 

“He’s not confused,” Jaime scoffed. “He’s so drunk he’s out of his mind.”

Renly didn’t want to watch any more. Perhaps Loras _was_ drunk. Perhaps he wasn’t. But what was clear to Renly was that he was as high as kite. He was restless, jittery and agitated, his pupils blown wide in what could be taken as arousal but which Renly suspected had very little to do with the cock that his partner for the evening was brandishing in his face.

Loras wasn’t doing a very good job with that cock; he was simply too uncoordinated to do much at all. It wasn’t long before he stumbled to his feet and across the room. He was fully dressed, his clothing just a little rumpled, and Renly felt rather odd to see that. There would have been a time where Loras would have just lain back and let the foreplay be his partner’s job. Renly himself had put a stop to that, and Loras had evidently taken Renly’s accusation that he was selfish in that respect to heart. The boy could barely stand, but he’d bent over that man’s cock diligently and it was only now that he was evidently expecting his own turn. Renly had taught him well, it seemed.

“Do you wanna fuck?” a voice from behind the camera panted. He still had the camera on his phone running, and he’d trained it on the bed now, which Loras had eventually managed to find.

Loras said something to that which Renly couldn’t understand, but the nodding of his head was clearly visible. His hands were shaking as he tried to pull his clothes off, fingers trembling seemingly involuntarily in a way that Renly knew probably had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with however many lines of white powder Loras had recently done. The guy made no move to help him with his clothes. He just let Loras struggle on the bed alone and filmed him.

It made Renly want to hit something.

He should have looked away then but Renly found himself still unable to. Loras hadn't managed to get his jeans off all the way but he'd forced them to his knees, along with his boxers. He wasn’t hard and yet Loras’ hand went to his cock as if he was, fingers still trembling. He didn’t seem to notice that he wasn’t erect.

It was the cherry on top of a humiliating cake and Jaime burst out laughing. 

“Just look at him, Renly," he said, almost crying through his laughter. "You dodged a bullet there. I’ve been blind drunk many a time, but I’ve never been so drunk that I couldn’t get it up. He’s twenty one for god’s sake. He shouldn’t be able to keep his bloody cock _down_.”

Renly didn’t bother correcting him on Loras’ age. He just glanced back miserably at the screen. Loras was still fumbling around. It was hard to see with the erratic way in which his hand was moving, but it appeared he’d made no progress with his cock.

“Just switch it off,” Renly said quietly. It was embarrassing; he felt embarrassed for Loras just watching. He wondered whether Loras had seen the footage himself. He didn’t want to imagine how furious Loras would be, how utterly humiliated he would feel. He imagined that more than a few things would have been broken by Loras' hand in New York flat tonight.

“Fine,” Jaime sighed. “I’ll switch it off. There’s hardly any more anyway.” He gave it a last look before clicking the exit button. “But really," he laughed. "What a _loser_.”

Renly found that tipped him over the edge. “Don’t you dare make fun of him,” he snapped, making Jaime recoil in alarm at his tone. “He’s obviously not with it there. He’s confused. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“And whose fault it that?” Jaime asked smugly. 

Renly paused uncomfortably.

“His own,” he admitted quietly. “But that’s someone I once cared about that you’re making fun of. Just leave him alone.”

Jaime opened his mouth to protest, but Brienne got there first.

“Enough,” she said firmly. “Jaime, enough.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa came round that evening without being asked and Renly was glad to see her. Really, Loras' antics had nothing to do with him anymore, and yet Renly found that what he'd seen in Jaime's office this morning still hung over him like a dark cloud. He felt Loras' humiliation as if it were his own. Sansa, he hoped, would take his mind off it: a task which she did well seeing as she'd come bearing two large Pizza Hut boxes. Nothing distracted Renly like pizza and he didn’t even wait to see if they were stuffed crust or not before he abandoned the boring meal of chicken and potatoes he’d been cooking for himself.

“Love Actually?” she suggested with a smile as she set the pizza boxes down in front of the TV. “Like we usually do before Christmas.”

“Definitely,” Renly laughed, flicking the switch that turned on the Christmas tree lights seeing as he had company now. He tried not to think about the fact that last Christmas it had been Loras who’d sat through that film with him, or slept through it rather. Looking back now, he supposed maybe that he should have taken Loras’ hatred of his famous Christmas film as a bad omen, a sign that they weren’t well matched at all.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and headed to the kitchen. “I’ll get the plates,” he called to Sansa as she fiddled around with the DVD player.

“ _Plate_ ,” she corrected. “The pizza is for you. I’ve got a salad and it comes in its own box.”

Renly rolled his eyes. Sansa was constantly on a diet nowadays, determined to lose a few pounds so that she might be hired for runway work in the New Year. Renly knew better than to comment. She’d just get defensive with him and give him a lecture about the amount of fat and salt in his own diet. 

Renly sat down beside her as the film started. He hadn’t bothered with the plates. Learning that it was just him eating meant he could be lazy and just eat it out of the box. “I take it you’ve seen today’s news?” he sighed as the starting credits rolled and Hugh Grant appeared on the screen. He didn't particularly want to talk about it and yet he assumed that was why she'd come. He supposed it was better to get it out in the open sooner rather than later.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I thought you might be a bit upset about it.”

Renly shrugged, opening the pizza box on his lap. “I’m not _upset_ per se, but it’s not nice to see him embarrassed like that.” He sighed heavily and helped himself to a big piece of Hawaiian pizza. “Have you seen it? The actual video I mean?”

“Yeah,” she admitted, shifting to look at him. “It doesn’t cast him in the best light does it…”

Renly nodded in agreement. It certainly didn't. 

“And he’s making it worse,” she added. “Have you seen?”

“No?” Renly picked up his laptop from where it was on the floor and typed _Loras Tyrell_ into Google. He set the filter to only show him things from the past 24 hours. It was rather alarming how many results that still returned and he sighed as he scrolled down through article after article. Absent-mindedly, he clicked on the fourth one down, a story from TMZ which caught his eye.

_A twitter storm erupts in the wake of LORAS TYRELL’s leaked sex tape,_ it read.  _with many_ _taking to the star's twitter page to write abusive messages under the hashtag #LorasTyrellSexTape._

_The supermodel was the victim of obscene rants by twitter trolls, being told "your a slut and you should go eat a f**king  burger"  and that "you're a f**king mess that needs putting down."_

_"@LorasTyrell Who do you think you are?" raged one critic hiding behind the handle of SayChan24. "Nobody wants to see you and your bony ass getting laid."_

_Others attacked the star's sexual preferences, with one user ranting that "at least lesbian sex tapes are kinda hot. Gays are just f**king disgusting."  Another added "@LorasTyrell Why do gays believe they have a place in this world? Im not judgin but plz keep yr lifestyle in your corner, not on the internet. Noone wants to see that s**t. There’s kidz on the web."_

It made Renly’s blood boil but he forced himself to click the back button calmly. He still didn't condone it, but seeing the abusive tweets that went on and on, he supposed that he could understand Loras' decision to staunchly claim that he was bisexual a little better now. He supposed that that sort of abuse must have seemed a little daunting when one was fifteen and found themselves thrown suddenly into the media spotlight.

He soon found the incident which Sansa was presumably referring to. It was headline news in fact on several of the gossip websites, and Renly sighed as he read on, wishing he could find it in him to be surprised that Loras was doling out a little of his own abuse.

_Loras Tyrell verbally attacks reporter in a rare public display of his alleged temper,_ it read. _When asked about the sex tape leaked yesterday night in which he gives oral sex to another man and then fails to sustain an erection, he allegedly told a reporter from the UK's Daily Star to "f**k off." The supposed incident took place outside Silvercup Studios in New York, where the star had been completing a shoot for Dior Homme. Eyewitnesses said that the model didn't stop there either, instead embarking on a further expletive-laden rant which left passing mothers covering their children's ears._

_“It was dreadful,” one mother of two told the Daily Mail. “My children shouldn’t have to hear such foul things in public. I think it's a disgrace."_

_Loras Tyrell’s management responded with the following statement: "Loras would like to sincerely apologize to the reporter involved for the momentary lapse of judgement which occurred this morning outside Silvercup Studios. We would like to ask the media, however, to respect Mr Tyrell’s privacy in what is a very uncomfortable time for him."_

_The star's management made no mention of possible legal action, but experts today claimed that it's "very probable" that the supermodel will take DJ JayFrey to court over the sexual footage which was released without his consent._

Sansa leant against Renly as she continued reading, and when she'd evidently got to the bottom, she looked up at him, her head cocked. “Do you think he will take the guy to court?” she asked.

Renly laughed bitterly. “Nah,” he sighed. “He most definitely won’t.”

“Why on earth not?”

“Because if he takes him to court they’ll be an inquest. And if there’s an inquest, all sort of dirt will come out on Loras that he won’t want.” Renly laughed a little ruefully. “There’s no way he’ll risk dragging his dirty laundry through a court. Not for the shitty sort of justice he'll get. Sure, the guy will get fined and the judge will order the video taken down, but we all know how little respect the internet has for court rulings.”

Sansa nodded. "I suppose you're right. I suppose he's lucky enough already that everyone's assumed he's drunk and not high." 

"Mmm," Renly agreed, "Or not brave enough to risk slander by suggesting it with very little evidence."

Sansa sighed and brought her legs up onto the sofa. “I don’t know whether I should feel sorry for him,” she admitted. “I mean, he’s got himself into that state. It’s kind of like he deserves it.”

Renly shrugged. He thought that dangerous ground, a slippery slope even. “Let me ask you a question, Sansa," he said softly.

"Sure."

"If you got yourself drunk and I raped you whilst you were drunk, whose fault would it be?”

She didn't have to think about that for very long. “Yours,” she said firmly, as Renly had known she would do. 

He laughed ruefully. “So why does Loras deserve this now then? Obviously he didn’t behave _sensibly_ , but he had a right to a reasonable expectation of privacy, just like you'd have the right not to be raped in our little scenario. Him being drunk or high doesn't change that." 

Sansa nodded. “You’re right,” she admitted softly. "I hadn't really thought about it like that."

“Mmm,” Renly hummed. "people often don't. It's why you still get rape victims being accused of bringing it on themselves. You know the drill. She shouldn't have worn such a revealing dress... she shouldn't have let herself get drunk.... she shouldn't have been walking back alone late at night. It's amazing really how people manage to blame the victims." 

"Will he be all right?" Sansa asked quietly.

Renly shrugged. "He'll be embarrassed that's for sure." He looked wearily back at the article still up on his laptop screen. It was accompanied by a still from the video, Loras on his knees with certain bits blurred out. "Poor thing," he sighed. "He probably thought he was being so generous, going back to some randomer’s flat and offering to let him fuck him. And instead of showing him some hospitality and a good time, that’s how the bastard repays him.”

Sansa said nothing this time, and as if by agreement, she and Renly returned to watching their film. 


	25. Chapter 25

20th of December 2014

_EXCLUSIVE: Loras Tyrell “mortified” and "bitter" over leaked footage._

_Sources close to the star told the Daily Mirror that he is “deeply upset” by the release of the intimate footage. The supermodel was allegedly supposed to be returning to the UK on Friday in order to join his family for Christmas, but apparently has postponed his plans due to the situation._

_"The nature of the footage released is obviously very embarrassing for him," a source told Baelish Online, "as it would be for any young man. Failing to achieve an erection is traumatic enough within the privacy of your own home, and I think it's fair to say that having it play out in the public eye hasn't been at all pleasant for him. He's really quite bitter over it."_

_"I don't think he'll be going home this Christmas," a model who doesn't wish to be named added, "He's convinced that his family will have seen the video and obviously that's something that nobody ever wants their parents to see."_

28th December 2014

_DJ who shot to fame over THAT tape with Loras Tyrell gives us the goss on what it's like to have a one night stand with the most successful male supermodel in the world. Heat Magazine spoke to Jayden Frey on Loras Tyrell, sex and the rumours that he's been approached to appear on 2015's cycle of Celebrity Big Brother._

_Heat: So Jay, it's great to have you here in our studios. Can you confirm then that it was you who appeared in the tape alongside Loras Tyrell?_

_JayFrey: Yeah, that was me._

_Heat: Doing the filming?_

_JayFrey: Yeah, but I can’t take credit for the idea. That was his thing. He kept going on about how he’d never done a proper sexy shoot before. And he lapped up that camera like it was booze. You know, Loras is just one of those guys who loves playing to the camera._

_Heat: It's been suggested that Loras Tyrell was too drunk to be engaging in such activity. What do you make of such claims?_

_JayFrey: Well that’s just utter bullsh*t if I’m honest. Sure, he was drunk, but I was f**king smashed too. Maybe we should have both sobered up a bit before we got down and dirty, but you know how it is... Things got heated. We both wanted each other._

_Heat: Did he appear to enjoy your night together?_

_JayFrey: Yeah, sure he did. He did piss me off a little though; kept going on about his ex and what they’d used to do. And I’m sorry man, but if there’s one thing that pisses me off, it’s talking about some other guy you were with before. That’s not on._

_Heat: Did he stay the night?_

_JayFrey: Nah, I ordered him a cab back to his place. He weren’t feeling too good. Wanted to get home. And to be honest, I didn't really want him passing out at my apartment either._

_Heat: Will there be a repeat of your encounter?_

_JayFrey: Seeing as he’s apparently blaming me for putting the recording online, which obviously I didn’t do, I guess not. Can’t say I’d be too interested either though. Sure he’s hot, but you can just tell he’s one of those guys who gets by on his looks in bed rather than being much fun. Sad to say, but a bit of a let-down really. There’s all these sexy photos of him everywhere and I thought he’d be hot stuff. But he’s really not. Way too vanilla for my tastes._

_Heat: And the rumours circulating that you're going to appear on this year's Big Brother...?_

_JayFrey: Sorry but that's all top secret right now. I can tell you though that I've got lots of projects in the works. Will be doing a couple of sick remixes this week for starters. They'll be available to download on my website._

_For the full interview, subscribe or get our magazine._

31st December 2014

_Loras Tyrell leads the procession of hard-partying at all night New Year bash._

_Maintaining a dignified silence as he’s pictured out for the first time since the release of intimate footage of him, the star didn’t appear to have a care in the world as he joined other famous faces to flit between many of Times Squire’s open bars._

_It was gone six in the morning by the time he was spotted stumbling into a cab home. (pictured inset)_

12th January 2015

_Loras Tyrell looks painfully thin in photographs taken of him on set at a photo shoot for US Vogue._

_He's been putting on a brave face to the public since the release of unauthorised sexual footage of him but it looks as if the stress has been getting to Loras Tyrell. The supermodel has looked steadily skinnier since the tape made global headlines in December._

28th January 2015

_Loras Tyrell covers up in a thick jumper and chunky scarf amidst allegations that the star has lost over ten pounds since Christmas._

_Our nutritional expert gives her verdict: He’s clearly lost a lot of weight if you compare recent photos of him to ones taken last year, says Dr Ruxton. He's taken care to avoid form-fitting clothing but the tell tale signs are still there. If you look at his face for instance, you can see that his cheekbones are much more prominent and his jaw slightly more defined. His decision recently to favour scarves is also telling, for weight loss usually appears most unforgiving around the neck and collarbone area. His weight is officially listed as 140 pounds on his website, although I would estimate that he’s nearer to 130 now which would put his BMI at an unhealthy 17.1._

1st February 2015

_Is troubled supermodel LORAS TYRELL off the rails? Looking rather worse for wear, Loras Tyrell struggles to stand up after a VERY boozy night out._

3rd February 2015

_Loras Tyrell spotted out on the town for the FIFTH night in a row amidst rumours that Chanel have asked the star to “tone down” his recent behaviour._

_The supermodel has apparently been reprimanded by the fashion house and was subjected to a 10-minute Skype chat with his U.S. bosses which saw the 22-year-old star warned to curb his partying ways and ''stay in more.''_

4th February 2015

_Time to give up the bleach?_

_Loras Tyrell's usually luscious locks look dry and brittle as he braves the snow and rain in New York. Battling with the wind to make his way through Central Park, the star's curls seemed limp and lacking in body._

_Celebrity Stylist Jaqen H'ghar, known for his own eccentric red and white tresses, gave us his verdict: Bleach is very hard on hair, he explained, especially when a man uses it for six years as Tyrell has done. A man needs to give his hair a rest._

5th February 2015

_Fears for troubled supermodel’s health grow as Loras Tyrell looks steps out in New York looking frailer than ever._

_A source with close ties to the model says worries are mounting for his health, sanity and well-being after a particularly troubled few months. His family have allegedly been urging him to return to the UK despite New York Fashion Week kicking off tomorrow. The supermodel is thought to have ignored their pleas._

_The source told Mail Online: 'For people who know and work with Loras, it's been an incredibly traumatic start of the year, with a lot of embarrassment for him. Everyone wants to help but Loras is a very private person; nobody's been able to break through. His recent behaviour has everyone worried.”_

* * *

 

 

Renly wondered whether all the worrying things he’d read about Loras recently were to blame for the fact that he kept being reminded of him tonight.

Oddly, though, he thought not. The unsettling truth of the matter was that his date for the evening did remind him of Loras, remarkably so. At 22, his date was the same age as Loras; coming from the southern coast of England, his date had grown up a stone’s throw away from Loras. His date even had the same hair as Loras, except that his curls were coal black instead of bleached blond.

The similarities were striking and for once Renly didn’t think it was all in his head.

Satin stood just a few inches shorter than Loras and it was almost as if someone had taken a picture of Loras and blurred the edges. His cheeks were rounder, his features softer, his curls a little tighter, but the resemblance unnerved Renly a little. Even now, one hour into their date, Renly found himself doing double takes every now and again. Several times even, he almost called the boy Loras, the name hovering on the tip of Renly's tongue until he managed to reign himself back in.

Thankfully, the likeness was only skin deep however. Satin was shy and mild mannered; softly spoken and unfailingly polite. He was the sort of person who Renly imagined didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. And with eye lashes that were so long they almost brushed his cheek every time he blinked and soft curls that fell across his forehead every time he laughed, Renly couldn't help but think he was absolutely gorgeous.

Quite honestly, Renly liked him. They made an attractive pair, he thought. Both dark and handsome. Passing women would do double takes as they walked by their table and Renly felt a shiver of excitement each time that he saw an appreciative gaze fall over them. It was a nice balance, Renly thought smugly. With Loras he'd had people gawping at him, staring and pointing and hurriedly taking their cameras out; with Satin, he got the attention without the constant clicking and flash photography.

“So what do you do?” Renly asked him with a grin as their deserts arrived. Here again, Satin and Loras were worlds apart. Satin had followed his lead and ordered a chocolate brownie piled high with vanilla and caramel ice cream, garnished with a fresh strawberry on top. Loras would have ordered the fresh strawberry. Or nothing at all.

Satin gave him a shy smile as he looked over his dessert at Renly. “It’s er... a little embarrassing,” he said softly.

Renly raised an eyebrow, amused. He tucked into his own brownie with a flourish. “So what is it?”

“Maybe on the second date,” Satin told him, twirling a curl around one of his delicate fingers.

Renly grinned. “I’m intrigued,” he admitted. He looked Satin in the eye, mock seriousness on his face. “You’re not a spy are you?”

A laugh.

“No,” he said eventually.

“A shame,” Renly laughed. “I would have liked to go on a date with a spy. Have dinner with James Bond and all that."

“Sorry,” Satin laughed back, softly, amused. “But I’m not a spy.”

“But then again,” Renly mused, another grin coming to his face. “That _is_ what a spy would say.”

"Mmm," Satin hummed. "It is."

 

* * *

 

 

Apparently Satin wasn't the type of boy to have sex on the first date, and so a little disappointed, Renly dropped him back at his flat. He'd got round in January to sorting out the insurance on the ridiculously expensive car Loras had bequeathed to him, and whilst it had cost him an eye-wateringly high figure to insure it for the year, Renly found he appreciated it tonight. Satin had all but fawned over his car, soft hands caressing the bonnet before he'd climbed elegantly into the passenger seat. He was evidently a lover of pretty things.

Once Satin had disappeared through his front door, Renly turned the beauty around, laughing at how the London traffic could still be unbearable at 11pm. Even the almost constant traffic jams couldn't get him down though, and in too good a mood to go home to his empty flat alone, he pulled up outside Sansa and Arya's. Sansa, after all, always appreciated a passing visit, and Gendry and Arya, despite their staunch protests that they'd rather have a beaten-up motorbike or truck any day, were actually rather fond of the Lamborghini with her well-oiled engine and impressive horsepower.

It was Gendry who answered the door, and indeed, his eyes flicked appreciatively to the car parked outside.

"Pretty, I suppose," he admitted under his breath as he let Renly in.

Sandor was in the kitchen, cooking of all things despite it being well past eleven, and Renly called hello to him to be polite. He needn't have bothered. He was met with a grunt and was pointed in the direction of the living room.

Renly grinned as he went in, his mind still on what Satin could possibly do for a living. He was met with an equally joyous Sansa, so joyous that she was almost bouncing up and down on the spot. They both opened their mouths to speak at the same time and neither of them heard anything except a jumbled mess of words and exclamations as their excitement mixed together.

“Good news?” Renly tried again, once they'd both shut their mouths.

“Yes,” she grinned. “You too?”

“Yeah,” Renly shrugged, barely hiding his smile. “but you first.”

“No you first,”

"No, you."

“Just one of you go bloody first,” Arya yelled from upstairs. "Me and Gendry are trying to watch a film here."

" _Gendry and I_ are trying to watch a film together," Sansa corrected, calling back and sounding far too much like their mother.

Arya didn't bother to answer, and the only reply they got was the volume on the TV being turned up, the sound of sword-fighting and people dying ringing out through the flat. No doubt they were watching some kind of war film, possibly _300_ if the cries of "SPARTA" were to be taken at face value.

“Fine,” Renly laughed once Sansa had shut the door to block out the noise. “It's nothing that exciting, but my date was pretty great tonight.”

Sansa’s face lit up. “Really!” She sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her. “Tell me everything,”

“Well he’s cute,” Renly told her. “Really well... _cute_ , looks like he should have been painted by Michelangelo or something, as a cherub. And we got on really well. You’d approve. He seems like a regular nice guy. A little shy, but really nice, apart from some mysterious job he won't reveal to me. I’m going to see him again next week.”

"Oh that's just great, Renly," she smiled. "Really really great. You deserve to have someone you know, normal. I mean Guyard was just a disaster wasn't he? And Loras... well he..." she trailed off.

"It's all right," Renly sighed, putting her out leaning back heavily against the back of the sofa. "You can say it. Loras was a disaster too." Still is a disaster, Renly thought to himself sadly. A train-wreck of a disaster who still clearly needed a lot of help he didn't want.

“And your news?” he asked, forcing the smile back to his face.

Sansa paused, and even then Renly knew the news was going to be good. He could see stars in Sansa's eyes, the way the joy danced in the blue oceans of her irises. She was evidently beyond elated, delight practically coming out of her ears.

“I got chosen for a runway show,” she whispered eventually.

“No?” Renly didn't know what he'd been expecting but it hadn't been that. Sansa's diets since Christmas had been reasonably successful but still he wouldn't have thought her skinny enough. He grinned at her. “I don’t believe you," he teased.

“Well it’s true,” she gushed. “I’m going to New York. For Fashion week! It's pittance I'm being paid, barely covers my expenses really, but it's going to be my big break; I'm sure of it.”

Renly just continued to grin at her. Quite honestly, he was astonished, but he wasn't going to tell Sansa that.

“It’s not on the main runway," she continued. "-they have like side ones in tents for smaller upcoming designers, but still! The clothes aren't bad either. It's this London girl who makes her own things from fair-trade and recycled fabrics. I'm going to have three outfits to wear, and if I don't mess it up, I might get used for London Fashion Week as well, and even Paris."

“Well I’m proud of you," Renly laughed. "I'll have to look out for you in the articles, see if I can spot you."

Sansa blushed. "Well this designer's so small that I doubt they'll be much coverage at all, but maybe you'll see me in the audience or something. I'll get a pass to just wander round and everything. No seats but I'll be able to stand and watch some stuff."

“Sounds great," Renly sighed wistfully. "When do you go?”

“Tomorrow.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Short notice huh?”

“Well the girl they had originally had an allergic reaction and came out in hives,” Sansa said, as diplomatically as she could manage, for she evidently didn't want to laugh at another girl's misfortune. “I was their second choice.”

"Well I for one am glad she came out in hives," Renly laughed. "You'll have a good time. Get some invaluable experience."

"Yeah," Sansa said quietly. "I will."

There was a pause and Renly knew they were both thinking the same thing.

They sat uncomfortably in silence before eventually he was the one to bite the bullet.

“Do you think you’ll see Loras?” he asked.

“Well he’ll be there,” Sansa said slowly, “but I doubt I’ll see him close up.”

Renly nodded. He thought that for the best.


	26. Chapter 26

Sansa left the next morning, and Renly took the morning off work so that he could drive her to the airport. She had been originally planning on taking the tube to London's Heathrow and yet with the amount of luggage she'd managed to pack, Renly had taken one look at the suitcases in her hall and made the decision to take her himself. He didn't think his conscience would have been able to bear the thought of her struggling up and down escalators and through barriers with a bag on each arm and a monstrous suitcase wheeling behind her.

The drive there was surprisingly hassle-free. Booking so last minute, the only flight Sansa had been able to afford was at an almost ungodly hour, and that meant at least that the traffic was marginally less horrific. Rather proud thus, Renly got her into Departures for about half past six in the morning, just early enough for her to check in the recommended two hours before her flight.

Renly had insisted on waiting and seeing her through security before he left her, and yet now, he found himself rather regretting that decision. It had gone seven by the time she was through, having disappeared into the departures lounge with a wave and a clattering of her heels, and ten minutes later, Renly had exited the short stay car park to find that he'd hit rush hour, truly and properly.

Now, stuck in traffic on Hanger Lane- having had to take an alternative route due to unmoving traffic in Chiswick, Renly couldn't help but feel a little down, in spite even of the envious looks his car was getting from other drivers also brought to a stand-still. Not only had it taken him two hours to do only half of the paltry seventeen miles between Heathrow and central London, really, he'd have liked to have gone with her, to be en route to the Big Apple instead of to the office. Had it not been for the date he had planned with Satin, he might have been tempted to go for it too. It wouldn't have been hard to convince Robert to give him the time off after all, but it was getting a ticket for New York Fashion Week this late that would have been the problem. Regardless of how nice it would have been to see Sansa in her runway debut, Renly imagined that getting his hands on a ticket would have been impossible at worst and extortionate at best.

It was too late to change his mind now though, and as he sat still unmoving in traffic, Renly tried to focus on that date he was so looking forward to.

 

* * *

 

He might not have gone with Sansa to New York but it seemed Sansa was determined not to let him miss out in the slightest. She had texted him several times during her journey and Renly had a feeling she was going to overload the Snapchat servers with the amount of pictures she was sending him. He got treated to all sorts: the Empire State Building, Times Square, Grand Central Station; any and every New York landmark she passed apparently. It would be worse, Renly thought, when she actually got to Fashion Week, and then he would be treated to pictures of every designer’s set whose clothes Sansa vaguely liked.

Renly was not proved wrong, and he'd been sent over forty pictures of Fashion Week by the time her first afternoon had come to a close. And that apparently wasn't enough, for the next morning, just as Renly was sitting down at his desk, his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Her name flashed up onto the screen.

"Hi Sansa," he laughed, picking up. "Going to tell me all about it?"

"Of course," she said, and Renly didn't think she'd ever sounded more tired.

"Wait," he said, frowning as he looked at his watch. "What time is it even there?"

"Quarter to three," she told him. "I'm in a cab to my hotel."

" _Quarter to three?_ " Renly repeated, feeling his eyebrows disappear under the hair that was falling over his forehead. "What are you still doing up? Aren't you walking in thingy's show tomorrow?"

"Yes," she said wearily, "I have to be back there for seven thirty tomorrow morning. Fittings only just finished. I'm exhausted Renly, I just want to sleep here in this cab. There's almost no point going to my hotel. I'll have to be up and out again in less than four hours."

She sounded as exhausted as she said she was and Renly couldn't think of anything to say for a good few seconds. He was a great lover of fashion but he didn't think he'd have put himself through that sort of impossible schedule for anyone or anything. He couldn't imagine anything worse in fact than having to stay up until long past midnight and then get himself to work when it was still dark outside. It was unreasonable, he thought, to expect anyone to do that, and yet oddly, that didn't seem to diminish the modelling industry's appeal. Working in fashion was more over-subscribed than medicine at university was, with girls falling over themselves to be picked for shows, or to do unpaid internships even, anything and everything that would get them on the ladder.

"Are you at least enjoying yourself?" he asked, feeling he shouldn’t voice his concerns out loud.

She paused and that worried Renly. "Yeah," she said, though she didn't sound overly sure. "I didn't have to be anywhere till the afternoon at least. I got to see New York and everything. I went on one of those open topped tourist buses. I wasn't going to, because it was so expensive, but dad said he'd give me the money. It's a waste apparently to come and not see anything."

"He's right," Renly agreed. Ned Stark usually was. That was why he was Robert’s most trusted advisor. "You should make the most of it."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'm scheduled to be on at ten tomorrow, so maybe they'll be a little hanging around once I arrive. I can take a nap or something. Apparently loads of the models are staying in this hotel, so maybe they'll be able to tell me what usually goes on." She paused and Renly heard her talking to the taxi driver, a thick New York accent assaulting his ears. "Anyway," she sighed eventually. "We're here now so I should probably go, got to get to bed and everything."

"Sure," Renly said. "Well have a lovely lovely time tomorrow."

"I will," she told him. "I'll ring you tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

New York's "tomorrow", however, was London's today, and it hadn't yet gone four in the afternoon when she phoned again. It was quite disturbing, Renly thought. She'd both been to bed and done a morning's work in the mere seven hours that he'd been in the office.

"Hey," he laughed as he picked up for the second time that day. "How did it go?"

“I didn’t fall over,” was the first thing she said. “ _I didn’t fall over_.” She sounded breathless and giddy, and she'd repeated the miracle that was her not falling over almost a hundred times before she elaborated. "And it was all right," she gushed. "It went well. The clothes looked good on me, and apparently, my walk was quite elegant." She seemed a lot more cheerful now and she'd apparently forgotten her exhaustion and misery of last night. That wasn't surprising, Renly thought. He imagined she was probably still running on pure adrenaline. And other people’s compliments.

"That's great," he said, trying to be as cheery as possible without being so loud as to alert everyone on his floor to the fact that he wasn't working. "You sound like you've done really well."

"Not really really well," she laughed, "but well. I'm so tired though. I've still got butterflies in my stomach from walking but once they're gone I think I'm going to have to find somewhere to take a nap. There's this party tonight that I'm invited too, and I think if I don't get some sleep I'll just end up falling asleep somewhere stupid, when I'm supposed to be schmoozing with my potential employees.”

She dropped her voice.

"I know it's awful to say," she whispered, "but I can kind of understand why Loras didn't see what he did as a problem. It's almost normal here. I've been offered that sort of stuff twice already. It's really surreal."

Renly sighed. That didn’t surprise him, "Yeah, I kind of gathered that it was pretty normal in certain circles." Loras' attitude had certainly made it crystal clear if nothing else.

"That and pro-plus," Sansa laughed.

"Well that's not very good for you either," Renly chuckled, wedging the phone against his shoulder so he could scratch his head. He should know, he thought. He had rather a lot of experience with the caffeine pills that perked you up like no cup of coffee quite could, at least not anything drinkable anyway. He reckoned that pro-plus might be responsible for getting him through his finals even.

"Mm," Sansa agreed. "Well anyway, I've got to go. Need to choose what I'm wearing to the party tonight and the designer says I can wear something of hers. Remember to look out for me in all the articles won’t you!"

She hung up then and Renly sighed. He thought he was quite could at keeping up usually but apparently fashion week was just that little bit too fast-paced.

 

* * *

 

 

He did as he was told though and diligently trawled through the hundreds of thousands of photos taken at New York Fashion Week in the hope that he might find one of Sansa. Several times, he thought he'd found one, his eyes quickly being drawn to a flash of red hair. But always it turned out to be somebody else, some other girl with elbow length red tresses and very long legs. Other times, he thought he might have spotted her in photos taken of the crowds, or at one of the after-parties, but with nothing more to go on than the tops of people's heads, it wasn't exactly easy to be sure.

He didn't give up though, and whilst for the first three days of the fashion week he found nothing much of any interest at all, aside from the clothes, on the evening of the fourth day he had to sigh. He still had yet to find any article mentioning Sansa but this was one he couldn't help reading either. He had barely half an hour before he was supposed to be leaving to meet Satin for their second date and yet he just couldn't do it; he couldn't flip the lid of his laptop down and avoid reading an article that he know he'd gleam only misery from.

He sat down to read it regardless.

 _BREAKING NEWS_ , it read, _supermodel Loras Tyrell collapses barely off the runway at NYFW._

_Moments after walking for Chanel in a hotly anticipated show, the 22-year-old is said to have fainted backstage, causing chaos and panic. Baelish was there to speak to witnesses._

_"He seemed fine on the runway," said the male model walking after him, "but apparently he had been feeling dizzy earlier. I was supposed to be on after him and I didn't really know what to do if I'm honest. He kind of just went down, like a house of cards. I wanted to stop and help, but the organisers are really intolerant if you're on late so I had to leave everyone else to pick him up."_

_Models Irri and Doreah were amongst those who ran to the supermodel's aid. "He was really pale and his breathing was rather shallow but we splashed his face with cold water from a bottle and he came round after a minute or two," they explained. "By then paramedics had arrived. They managed to get him to his feet easily enough and then security guards came to clear the crowds so that he could get a bit of air."_

_The supermodel had apparently been feeling ill earlier during the day and had even been in talks with Chanel bosses about not walking in the fashion show._

_One witness told Baelish that "he didn't look well backstage either. He was in hair and make up for like half an hour and considering that it was only complexion correction and stuff for the lights, that’s never good. Apparently he looked half dead before they started.”_

_We spoke to our fashion expert who gave her verdict:_

_He’s obviously not well, she said. If you look at the runway shots taken of him today (pictured inset) you can clearly see that every garment has been nipped in with pins. Considering that Chanel usually do their fittings three weeks to a month in advance for big stars like Loras Tyrell, this would suggest that he’s lost quite a bit of weight between then and now. He looks like he'd fit into much of what the female models were wearing today which in itself is worrying and not the sort of image that Chanel are likely looking to project. He's far too thin, ill even._

Renly didn’t need her expertise to tell him that. He only needed to look at the photos that Baelish had kindly splashed over their front page to see that Loras was clearly unwell. His cheeks had no colour despite apparently spending half an hour with the make-up artists, and it was if someone had put a film over his eyes. They were misty, and looked dead in every single one of his pictures, even on the runway, where Loras was famed for being photogenic. But most of all, he looked exhausted.

Rushing around his bedroom to get himself suitably dressed, he called Sansa's mobile. It rang for what seemed like forever and Renly desperately tried to keep it pressed to his ear as he pulled his nicest pair of boxers on in case he got lucky tonight. He got them on with great difficulty and was just beginning to think that she was never going to pick up when her very familiar voice answered.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice a little crackly on the line. “I was wondering when you would phone.”

Renly gave a weak laugh, rummaging through his wardrobe for a belt and wishing he could focus entirely on the man he reckoned he had a good chance of sleeping with tonight and not on the one who was half a world away and who he wouldn't want to date now even if he was paid to do so. “Am I that predictable?” he asked wearily.

“Yes,”

“Did you see it?”

“Sort of,” she said. She didn't seem to need to ask what he was referring to. "It’s been sensationalised though. Some websites have been claiming that he was actually on the runway, and that he was rushed to hospital. None of that's true."

"I reckon I read quite an accurate one," Renly sighed. He glanced in the mirror. His shirt looked a little bare and it _was_ a very fancy restaurant they were going to. "Tie or not?" he asked Sansa through the phone.

"No tie," she laughed. “Too much for a second date.” Again she didn't need to ask what he was referring to.

"Back to New York Fashion Week then..." Renly said as he threw the ties he'd taken out back over his chair. "Loras... You must have seen him right? How does he look? Surely not as bad as he does in all these articles I've been seeing today."

“ _Renly,_ ” she breathed, “They don’t lie when they say that the camera adds ten pounds. He’s scarily thin.”

Renly said nothing. He didn't know what to say really. "You sure they didn't take him to hospital?" he sighed. He wondered whether they ought to have done.

“They definitely didn't,” she breathed. “I saw him later. From a distance before you get all excited. They’d put him in this special blanket, you know one of those special medical ones, and given him a Lucozade. I felt a bit sorry for him actually. He had all these people fussing round him and clearly he wanted to be left alone."

“So you didn't get to speak to him?” Renly was really having to rush now and he almost tore half of his hair out as he tried to get a brush through it. He had to curse himself a little as he waited for Sansa to reply. He'd planned on getting himself ready with acres of time to spare, on looking really good tonight. He'd also rather have liked it if he'd been able to keep his bedroom vaguely tidy, on the off chance that he would indeed have company this evening.

“No,” she said softly. “I didn't speak to him. I wouldn’t have been able to get anywhere near him even if I wanted to. But I kind of did want to. He looks terrible Renly. His hair looks like it's falling out almost and the rumours, Renly, that were circulating about him…"

"Rumours?"

“Yeah. He only did two outfits. He was supposed to do five. Apparently they had to replace him at the last minute because Chanel decided he couldn’t wear anything with short sleeves.”

Renly frowned, toothbrush half out of his mouth as he tried to brush his teeth. “Why?”

“Well partly because he’s so bony, but also apparently because he’s got all these marks up his arms. One of the girls told me that the make-up artists tried to cover it all in foundation but Chanel was worried about it showing up under the lights."

Renly spat out his toothpaste angrily into the sink. "Marks up his arms?" he snapped at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Stupid _stupid_ boy. Should have drawn the line at smoking the damned stuff."

It made him want to hit something, Renly thought bitterly. Possibly Loras. Possibly the bastards that employed him. For whilst Loras had spouted off all that rubbish about how he had a moral code to keep to, Renly knew that none of the designers actually gave a shit about whether or not their models did illegal substances in their spare time. It was only a problem when it could no longer be hidden, when it could no longer be swept daintily under the rug. The drug use wasn’t the problem. It was being affiliated with it that was the problem.

Sansa said nothing, evidently fearful of making his temper worse.

Eventually Renly had to sigh. "I should go," he groaned as he quickly dabbed some aftershave sparingly on his neck. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. It’s not your fault that Loras Tyrell needs some sense knocked into him and a long stint in rehab."

"Let me know how your date goes," she said quietly.

"I will," Renly said, and just like that he felt as if a cloud was being lifted. He even managed a small smile as he grabbed his car keys and headed down the stairs.


	27. Chapter 27

Renly needn’t have worried that he’d left his bedroom in an absolute state, for Satin had merely given him a rather coy smile when Renly had insinuated that they might go home together.

“Another time,” he’d said sweetly, as Renly had tried to wind his hands around his slim waist and pull him towards him. They’d kissed though, tangled up on the back seat of Renly’s car when Renly had pulled up outside Satin’s flat to drop him home. With hands tangled in hair and lips ghosting against skin, they’d kissed until their lips were bruised and their breath coming in ragged gasps.

It had been reluctantly that they’d parted, and it was only when Renly had collapsed onto his bed and impatiently tugged down his trousers in desperation that he’d realised Satin had never told him what he worked as. As intrigued as he’d been though as to what could be so embarrassing that Satin didn’t want to tell him, Renly hadn’t been able to find it in him to care right then, and panting up at his ceiling with Satin’s silky curls and porcelain skin in his mind’s eye, he’d found that he didn’t really give a shit about what Satin did, as long as he got to fuck him soon.

 

* * *

 

 

They’d arranged a date though for a few days later and Renly tried not to dwell too much on it, excited and pent-up as he was. He supposed that it didn’t help that it had been a while since he’d had sex, but really, he thought it was more than that. There was something inarguably sensual about Satin, a certain sexuality in his movements, in his voice, in the coy looks that he’d give Renly over the table. Renly didn’t think he’d ever been more eager to fuck someone in his life, and despite his best efforts, he found himself all but counting by the hours as he waited for the evening of his date to hurry up and arrive.

It helped perhaps that Sansa returned the day after next, for Renly could forget a little of his frustration in her haste to relive every moment that she’d spent in New York. As proud of herself that she was, however, she also returned a little disappointed. The girl that she’d been standing in for was apparently better, her hives gone without a trace, taking with them Sansa’s chance at being used for this week’s London Fashion Week as well.

“It’s all good experience anyway,” Renly told her on the morning of her return, helping himself to a large buttered piece of toast that Sansa had made for herself before realising quite how much butter she’d put on it. “Don’t worry about London. You told me yourself that you barely got more than three hours sleep a night over there. It's not good for you. You probably need a rest this week."

Or else you'll end up like Loras, he thought miserably to himself: overworked, with not enough sleep, and reliant on chemicals to have enough energy to get up in the morning. He thought it ridiculous that Loras wasn't withdrawing from the remaining three fashion weeks, and yet just this morning he’d read a piece in the Daily Mail about how Loras was apparently “much better,” and “determined to persevere with his commitments in London, Milan and Paris.”

There had been a photo alongside that article, a very unflattering close-up of Loras getting off the plane at London Heathrow, and Renly hadn’t thought he looked “much better.” He’d been pale and sickly looking, a little like an animated corpse, and whilst it hadn’t been overly clear from the photograph, apparently he’d had to be helped down the steps.

All in all, Renly thought, it didn’t bode well.

“I think you’re all going about this the wrong way,” Arya declared suddenly, looking up from the sink where she was washing dishes and bringing Renly out of his thoughts.

Sansa looked up mournfully. “I am?”

“Yes,” Arya said bluntly. “You are. This girl had hives right?”

Sansa nodded, fiddling with the hair that fell about her face.

“Well we just need to find out what she’s allergic to,” Arya said smugly, “And then we can anonymously send a congratulations package backstage for her with a few special ingredients. Voila, her hives are back, and Miss Designer What’s-Her-Face will be calling you within the hour, begging you to strut your stuff like a sissy again.”

Renly grinned, liking her line of thought. “Well I think we’ve got ourselves a plan,” he agreed. That, he thought, would definitely suffice to keep his mind off his upcoming date with Satin. It might even suffice to keep him busy enough not to read the ever more depressing articles about Loras.

“But I don’t know what she’s allergic to,” Sansa said quietly.

Renly laughed at her lack of faith. “Well we’ll find out. And if we don’t find out soon enough for London, maybe we can target her for Milan Fashion Week. Or Paris.”

Arya shrugged. “Whoever decided to have all the four fashion weeks in a row was really stupid. We’ll give her so many hives that she’ll be out for London, Milan, _and_ Paris.”

Sansa seemed only a little amused and she managed a weak smile. “Thanks guys, I know you’re trying to make me feel better and this is really funny, but I’d rather just not talk about it. London Fashion Week would have been a dream come true for me.” She looked miserably down at her hands, inspecting her chipped nail polish rather disdainfully.

“She thinks we’re joking,” Arya said with a frown. “Why does she think we’re joking?”

Renly grinned at her. “I’ve no idea, but she’s obviously not desperate enough yet for sabotage, so I vote we just leave her be.”

Arya shrugged. “Her loss.” Turning away from her sister, she rolled her sleeves up and plunged her hands back into the washing up bowl.

She evidently had nothing more to say to Sansa, and so Renly thought he should take over. Smiling, he walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, brushing her red hair aside.

“I’ll tell you what, Sansa,” he grinned. “How about you come over tomorrow before my date and help me decide what to wear. There won’t even be a mention of London Fashion Week.”

The smile she gave Renly was still rather feeble but she did nod rather enthusiastically.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly didn’t know how his entire wardrobe had ended up all over the floor, but that was the least of his worries right now. And as he chucked the thirtieth unsuitable jacket across the room, he wanted to put his head in his hands and sigh, or perhaps weep even. Even Sansa advising him wasn’t helping and Renly was no nearer to deciding his outfit for the evening than he had been three hours ago.

“Why don’t I have a single thing that I want to wear?” Renly lamented, kicking an ugly shirt that he was surprised he owned across the room. Perhaps it had been a present from Stannis.

“You must do,” Sansa laughed. “You do have a ridiculous amount of clothes after all.”

“I know I do,” Renly groaned. He rubbed his temple wearily, conscious of the fact that he was supposed to be leaving in five minutes. “We’ve just got to focus. Make some quick decisions.”

He picked up a leather jacket that had been tossed carelessly over his bed. He supposed that he should go for the timeless classics if in doubt and hurriedly, he grabbed his favourite white shirt and a slim black tie to go with it. It was a combination that he could never go wrong with- and he had good enough looks after all that he could certainly pull off understated- but it was a little boring though and Renly did hate to be boring.

Sansa averted her eyes rather unnecessarily as Renly changed his shirt but she gave him a nod of approval once he was done.

“You look lovely,” she said. “Now go, grab your wallet and your keys and get a move on.” She ushered him out of the room. "It's going to take you twenty minutes to drive to Covent Garden, it’s already quarter past nine, and you're supposed to be there at nine thirty.

Renly didn’t need telling twice, and he all but legged it down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

He was only five minutes late, and Renly blamed the traffic in Covent Garden when he finally met Satin outside the restaurant.

Leaning lazily against a lamp post, Satin smiled at Renly as he approached, his curls flopping over his forehead. He looked absolutely gorgeous tonight, Renly thought to himself as he looked him up and down appreciatively- definitely good enough to eat, and it was on the tip of Renly’s tongue to suggest that they skip the date entirely and simply find themselves a hotel room.

“You look lovely,” he murmured as Satin took his hand to lead him inside.

“Thanks.” Satin gave him one of his coy smiles, and Renly felt his cock twitch inside his jeans. “You do too.” He looked Renly up and down as well, from his head to his toes, and Renly got the distinct feeling that he was being mentally undressed.

He couldn’t complain at all.

The restaurant was crowded and busy, but Satin had reserved them a little table near the back, where they’d hopefully have a little more privacy, shielded slightly from the noise.

They sat opposite each other, and the table, Renly thought, had been laid out rather nicely. It was an upmarket restaurant and it showed. There were both flowers and candles; their napkins were arranged into very elaborate birds that might have been swans; and they had those wine glasses which were so impressively huge that Renly was definitely regretting having taken a car that evening.

The menu too looked exquisite, and Renly was just trying to decide which of the eleven mains he fancied when of all things his phone rang.

Sighing, and lamenting the fact that he hadn't put it on silent, Renly slid it out of his pocket. The number that flashed up wasn't one he had in his contacts, and strangely, it was a landline. Aside from Brienne, who hadn't quite grasped how to use a mobile phone yet, Renly couldn't remember the last time he'd been called from a landline. It was an 0207 number, inner city London, and Renly shrugged at it, making to slip it back into his jacket pocket.

“No, answer it if you like,” Satin laughed, putting down his menu and smiling at him. “I don’t mind. I haven’t finished choosing what I want anyway.”

Renly nodded and got up, pressing the phone to his ear as he made his way outside. The restaurant was loud, with the clattering of plates and cutlery buzzing all around him, and yet it was clear enough that the lady on the other end of the phone had addressed him as Mr Baratheon. Renly had to stifle a groan as he answered her. Any call where he was addressed as Mr Baratheon would never be a fun one. Half of the time when that happened it was people expecting to get Robert, or even Stannis.

All the same, he listened, and as the lady went on, Renly began to wish that he'd never answered the phone call in the first place. He wished that he'd had the good sense to have put his phone on silent and that this conversation would have been nothing more than a missed call that he'd have seen at the end of the night, preferably after he'd got all of Satin's clothes off and scattered them across his bedroom floor. Ignorance would have been bliss, Renly thought miserably as he eventually hung up.

It was a little anxiously and very confused that he returned to Satin at their table.

"I have to go," he told him apologetically, running his hands through his hair. "I'm needed somewhere. Urgently, apparently. I'm so sorry."

Satin, being Satin, just smiled. "We can reschedule," he told him. "If you have to be somewhere, you have to be somewhere."

Renly didn't think he'd ever been more grateful.

 

* * *

 

 

The traffic wasn’t as bad as it could have been and it took Renly fifteen minutes to do the three miles from Covent Garden to London Bridge. Renly had never previously known there was a hospital there, but it was easy enough to find, the signs very evident as soon as he was over the bridge itself.

He felt oddly numb as he parked his car, unsure what to feel and unsure even if he ought to feel anything at all. He floundered when he reached the front desk. Whilst he'd known immediately who the lady on the phone had been referring to, she'd given him a name that he hadn't recognised, a name that he couldn't for the life of him remember now. He tried several times to summon it up, and when he failed for the third time in a row, the receptionist took pity on him. She evidently knew who he'd come to see. She must have known after all that the name she had written in her book wasn't real.

"This way sir,” she said gently.

Renly’s feet followed her of their own accord.

He was led down corridor after corridor, and if he’d been told he was in a hotel he’d have believed it. The whole place was spotless and modern, with big arching windows that were adorned with pretty curtains that had a purple swirling pattern on them. Those curtains were all partially drawn, and yet the view across London was still spectacular. Feeling oddly detached, Renly stopped to admire it, peering between those pretty purple curtains and wondering why on earth he was here tonight. London Bridge was lit up below him, and when he peered to the right, Tower Bridge was too, boats passing beneath it like tiny figurines.

He was still strangely numb when they apparently reached their destination: a room which was very large but so seemingly empty that, had Renly not been told, he might not have guessed there was a person staying in it. There was no bed in sight and it wasn't until the nurse led him round into what Renly had assumed was an alcove that he realised he'd only been viewing half of the room. The bed was visible now, a huge double one with deep purple curtains drawn around it, and if there had still been any doubt over whether he was in a private hospital or a state one, Renly thought it would have suddenly been made crystal clear.

Renly waited awkwardly by the foot of the bed as the nurse drew the curtains back, and whilst he'd known immediately who he’d been called here for, it still took him a good while to recognise the pale person lying in bed. He was either asleep or unconscious, oddly still, so motionless that he could have been made out of stone, and so hooked up to various wires and bleeping machines that he barely resembled a person at all. His curls too were damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead like he'd just stepped out of the shower.

The covers were purple to match the curtains and they’d been drawn tightly up to his neck; someone having evidently taken care to make sure that he was as tucked up under the blankets as he could be. Only a single arm was exposed, and it was that one that was hooked up to the IV. The sleeve of his hospital gown came down to below the elbow and yet even that couldn't fail to hide how bony he'd become. Renly tried not to stare. His wrist was tiny, his elbow jagged, and the entire arm seemed to stick out at a strange angle, almost as if it wasn't attached to his body.

Quite honestly, Renly wouldn’t have recognised him. It was a stranger lying in the bed in front of him.

He turned to the nurse. “What’s wrong with him?” he breathed, although he thought he probably already knew. “Is he unconscious?”

“Sedated,” she told him. "He was agitated, distressed. Frightened too probably. We thought it for the best."

Renly nodded, still a little numb. Even after all this time, the thought of Loras being frightened upset him. Loras had been fearless, fierce; it wasn't in his nature to be afraid. Renly supposed he could understand why he might be a little frightened now though. He imagined that it must be more than a little disconcerting to awaken in an unfamiliar hospital bed surrounded by strangers, and that was without mind-altering drugs playing havoc with your emotions. There was only one thing that Renly couldn't understand, and that was why Loras had asked the hospital to phone him of all people. It was sad, Renly thought, that Loras calling him was what he found most surprising about this situation- that Loras ending up motionless in a hospital bed wasn't surprising in the slightest.

"And you're sure it's me that he wanted to come?" he asked the nurse with a sigh, fiddling with his hands. He wished he was still at dinner.

"Yes," the nurse said. "I'm sure. He was quite adamant to begin with that he didn't want to phone anybody, but then he changed his mind once we'd calmed him down a little. Told us to try you, see if you'd come."

Renly didn't have anything to say to that really, and so he repeated his first question. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked again. The nurse hadn't properly answered that.

“He’s suffering from what we call arrhythmia," she explained, bending to tuck the covers yet more tightly around Loras’ neck. She gave a small tight smile when Renly looked blankly at her. "- an irregular heart-beat.”

Renly looked back at Loras. Indeed, the machine that was bleeping beside his bed seemed to be monitoring his heart, its wire disappearing below the covers that were bunched up around Loras' neck. Its screen showed the sort of zig-zag lines that Renly saw often in medical dramas on TV, and he almost expected it to start flat-lining, for that's what always seemed to happen when one of those machines appeared on TV. He was a little thankful, thus, when it didn't and the zig-zag lines kept on appearing, one after the other without fail./

“Why does he have an irregular heart-beat?” he asked rather lamely.

“It depends,” she sighed, “He’s twenty-two so it’s unlikely to be any underlying heart problem. It could be his weight. He's dangerously thin, to the extent that he'll have lost a lot of his heart muscle. We're assuming, however, that it's some kind of substance abuse, an overdose of some sorts.” Leaning over, she pulled Loras' sleeve up very slightly and Renly could see immediately what she was trying to show him. The marks were very visible, tiny little bruises that ran along the vein, alarmingly dark against the pallor of his skin.

Just looking at them made Renly feel rather odd, and he shivered a little involuntarily, imagining needles sinking into skin. He wasn't surprised that Chanel had doubted their ability to hide the bruises with make-up. Some were quite impressive indeed, deep purples and blacks that followed the crease of his elbow.

"We’d have liked to run toxicology tests to determine exactly what he’s taken and how much," the nurse explained to him, "but he refused to give consent.”

“Right...” Renly sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” He supposed that Loras' refusal would have been down to a desperation not to have any of this on his medical records, confidential as they were supposed to be. It was ridiculous, Renly thought, that Loras would be so difficult with the very people who were trying to help him, and yet he supposed also that Loras knew best of all exactly how little meaning the word _confidential_ had in today's society.

"Can't you treat him without doing a drugs test?" Renly asked.

"Oh yes," she told him wearily. "We can. The paramedics had to. He was unconscious when they arrived, and I believe they used a defibrillator on him several times before they even got him in the ambulance, to try and restore a normal heart-beat.”

“Did it work?”

“Luckily for him, yes," she said. "But his blood pressure is still alarmingly high." Bending, she gave Loras' exposed arm a gentle pat. "Poor thing," she sighed, her voice heavy with sympathy. "He collapsed in his hotel room apparently. One of the maids found him, unresponsive and on the floor; called an ambulance for him." She paused, taking Loras' bony little hand. "He's not had a very pleasant evening has he? But it's nice that you've come. Nobody should have to be in hospital alone."

Renly nodded. The numbness had started to fade now, and he wasn't sure why but he felt the odd urge to cry. Loras looked very alone in that huge hospital bed by himself, accompanied only by the bleeping machines and the IV stand. He’d evidently been brought in alone too, without someone even to ride along in the ambulance with him and hold his hand, and that upset Renly as well. Even though it wasn't his fault, he felt suddenly a little guilty, sick to his stomach to think that whilst he'd been fussing over what to wear tonight, Loras had quite possibly been alone on his hotel room floor, yet to be found.

He looked sadly down at the nurse. “It’ll have been cocaine he’ll have taken,” he told her softly. “If that helps.”

She sighed deeply and stood, smoothing the fabric over her hips. “I wouldn’t be lying if I said we'd assumed as much. He’s exhibiting all the signs of it. A lot of it, too. We’re giving him benzodiazepines.” She smiled once again at Renly’s blank look. “-drugs that will bring down his blood pressure. Cocaine overdoses aren't like heroin overdoses. There's no antidote per se. We can only treat the symptoms."

Renly nodded. “Sure," he whispered. He paused, glancing once more down at Loras, watching his chest rise and fall feebly beneath the blankets. “Is he going to be all right?” he asked after a while.

“Yes,” she said, a little slowly, Renly thought, as if she were unsure of her words. “He will. He’s lucky that we got an ambulance out quickly. He was very close to going into cardiac arrest."

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. He tried not to dwell on her words; they frightened him a little. “But I meant kind of more long term?”

She looked down at Loras, no doubt assessing his weight and his thin frame, his brittle hair and the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“No,” she said quietly. “Not unless he makes a lot of significant changes to his lifestyle. He’s very ill, frail. He should be in hospital, or at the very least at home. Somewhere where he's got people to look after him, to make sure he eats properly and gets some rest. He's really been through the mill.”

Renly nodded. They were both quiet for a while.

“Are you going to wake him up?” he asked eventually. For some reason, the idea struck fear into him. It was easy enough to stand next to Loras' bedside and fuss over his motionless body with a nurse, but if Renly was honest, he wasn't sure why he was here. He felt out of place, and just a little disjointed from everything around him, as if he were looking down at Loras through eyes that weren't his own. A large part of Renly didn't _want_ Loras to wake up yet. A year was a long time, and even if Renly had wanted to, it simply wasn't possible to pick up the pieces of an old life he'd done his best to forget, to pretend that seeing Loras after all this time wasn't distinctly strange to him.

The nurse was nodding though, and was fiddling around with Loras' IV. There was apparently no time for Renly to escape.

“Give him a few minutes,” she said oddly cheerfully. “And press the red button by the bed there if he’s agitated or aggressive. Most likely he’ll just be a bit disorientated though." She smiled at him as she made her way towards the door. "I'll leave you two alone shall I? He'll probably prefer that."

She didn’t wait for an answer and she disappeared from sight before Renly heard the door shut softly behind her. Part of Renly wanted to call after her, to beg her not to leave him here alone with him. He didn’t know what to say, what to do.

He paced anxiously as Loras started to come round, shifting slightly in his bed. At one point his hand went to the IV in his arm and he tried to scratch it away, feebly. It was reluctantly that Renly approached him, and very very precariously, he perched himself on the edge of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” he whispered, not sure if Loras would hear him or not.

Loras just groaned, and it was a weak, pitiful sound, one that barely escaped through his lips. It didn't sound anything like Renly remembered Loras sounding, and that in itself was somehow alarming, proof perhaps that they were changed men, men who had no business now being in each other's company right now. For what seemed the fiftieth time that night, Renly wondered why he was here, why Loras had asked him of all people to be the one at his bedside.

Loras was stirring properly now, and his eyes fluttered open weakly before shutting again, the bright light of the hospital room apparently too much for him. Once more he tried to scratch away the IV in his arm and yet this time his fingers seemed to feel what it was and after giving it a feeble prod, he let his hand drop onto the covers.

"Loras?" Renly breathed, trying again, and oddly the name still felt familiar on his tongue.

Loras responded better to his name and his eyes opened properly this time. Dazed, he looked around for whoever was calling him, and Renly had to stifle a sigh to see that his eyes were alarmingly wide, so glassy looking that Renly could see his reflection in them. It was a while before Loras actually seemed to see anything out of them, and even longer before he seemed to recognise what he was seeing.

“Renly?” came a tiny little voice that was so small it couldn’t have possibly belonged to Loras. “Is that you?”

“Yeah it’s me,” Renly soothed. He wondered if he should take Loras’ bony little hand like the nurse had done, but he thought he'd feel a little odd doing that. “You did mean to call me didn’t you?” he asked softly. 

Loras was silent for so long that Renly thought he’d hadn’t heard, his glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling as if he didn't know he'd been asked a question. Eventually though, his lips began to move. “Yeah,” he said. “I did.”

There was a great pause where he evidently summoned his strength.

“But I didn’t think you would come.”

Renly said nothing to that. He just peeled Loras’ hair off his forehead from where it had stuck to his sweat. He was surprised he’d come too.

“It’s been almost a year since we even spoke, Loras,” he sighed eventually under his breath. "I shan't lie. I'm a little confused as to why I'm here. Why you called me of all people."

“Well you came,” Loras pointed out. His eyes finally came to rest upon Renly's face and his expression grew pained. “And once, Renly, ages ago now, you promised me you’d always be there if I needed you. And I needed someone, Ren. I had to call someone. They _told_ me to call someone.”

From how he phrased it, Renly would have thought that the nurses had bullied him into calling someone. “Didn’t you have any friends to call?” he asked.

“Yes-” he started, and then he apparently changed his mind. “No,” he admitted slowly, returning to staring at the ceiling. “Not really. I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

“Nobody?” Renly asked in disbelief, feeling an eyebrow disappear into his hair. “Loras, I see you frolicking around in magazines with every hot young person around. There’s plenty who must be in London for Fashion Week.”

Loras closed his eyes. “I could have called plenty of people,” he admitted. “But none of them would have come." He looked pained and he scrunched up his eyes as if he had a headache. He quite possibly did. "As soon as this goes to press, Renly, every designer I work for will be scrambling to disassociate themselves from me. I'll be bad publicity. Nobody will want to be involved with all that."

Renly looked down at him sadly. It hadn't really occurred to him that Loras might not have had anyone else to call. Of all Loras had just told him, he thought that the most painful to hear. He thought it perhaps for the best even that Loras was cut loose by the designers who employed him. As the nurse had said, he clearly wasn't well enough to work. It broke Renly's heart, however, to learn that ringing him had been Loras' best chance of anyone coming to see him tonight. Everyone, he thought, had friends, but it appeared Loras only had hangers-on. That was sad in itself, and this time Renly did reach out to take Loras' hand.

“What about your family?” he breathed, squeezing Loras' unfamiliarly frail fingers very gently. "Where are your family, Loras?"

Loras opened his eyes again at that. “They’re miles away, Ren," he said. "It would take them hours to get here. It's better for them if I call them early tomorrow morning, before they read about it in the papers.”

Renly sighed deeply. From what he'd seen of the Tyrells, he imagined that they would drive all through the night if Loras needed them to. They'd seemed that sort of a family, and he was surprised Loras hadn't already called them. He had to wonder whether Loras was ashamed, whether after apparently refusing to come home for Christmas, he couldn't bear to face them now. It wouldn't have surprised him, and biting back another sigh, he glanced down at Loras again. He was surprised to see him staring most earnestly back up at him.

"I'm feeling a lot better," he whispered. "Can we go now, Ren?"

Renly startled so badly that he almost wrenched the IV out of Loras' arm. " _Go?_ ” he asked, still reeling. “ _Where on earth are we going?_ ”

“Home,”

Renly cocked his head. “You want me to take you home?" he clarified, a little stunned.

Loras looked bewildered by his reaction. "Well yeah," he breathed, puzzled. "I haven't anywhere else to go, Ren. My hotel’s going to be surrounded by press, and I don’t know where to go, what to do. I can't stay in this place, and they say won't discharge me by myself."

Renly looked at him, still hooked up to all his various drips and machines. “I’m surprised they’ll discharge you at all if I'm honest,” he said.

Loras looked cagey and Renly imagined he’d kicked up a real fuss. Knowing him, he’d probably been demanding to leave as he’d been brought in, assuming that he’d been conscious to do so.

"Please?" he tried, reaching out for Renly’s hand again. "You can't leave me in this place by myself. There's nothing even wrong with me.”

If he hadn't looked so pathetic, Renly might have laughed with the ludicrousness of it all. "Apparently you almost had a heart attack this evening,” he protested.

“But I didn’t,” Loras whispered plaintively, his face flushing as he strained to sit up a little. “So you have to take me home.”

“I’m not taking you home,” Renly said bluntly.

His tone must have been harsher than he intended, for Loras shrunk away from it, looking as if Renly had slapped him. He looked hurt, betrayed almost, and after a few moments, he sighed heavily, his entire body shaking with the effort of it.

"All right then," he mumbled, and like a puppet with its strings cut, he flopped back against his pillows, looking ever so small amongst them. “I’m sorry for disturbing you so late then.” Closing his eyes, he turned his face away.

He was apparently dismissed and so Renly rose from his bedside, still a little bemused as to why Loras would assume he’d be willing to take him home with him, in direct opposition to what the doctors were apparently insisting on.

He'd only taken a few steps though before he was being called back.

“Wait,” Loras whispered, his voice hoarse. “Can’t you just take me to a hotel then? Get me out of here, Ren. By morning this place is going to be swarming with photographers, fake name or not. And I’m so tired, Renly, I’m too tired to deal with it.”

He _sounded_ tired, desperate too, and Renly paused, conflicted.

“Give me a minute,” he muttered. He made his way to the door wearily, looking for the nurse he'd spoken to earlier. He found her slightly further down the corridor, discussing something with two doctors in white coats. She had a clipboard in her hand, and Renly was very reluctant to approach her.

"Could I have a word?" he asked though, as soon as he was close enough.

"Of course," she smiled. "Anything at all."

“About Loras,” he asked. “Can he be discharged tonight?”

There was a slight pause during which Renly remembered Loras hadn’t given them his real name. She seemed to know who he was referring to though. After all, it was impossible in this day and age not to know who Loras Tyrell was.

“We wouldn’t advise it,” she said slowly. “He’s not well enough to go anywhere yet, especially by himself. He’s not really well enough to leave hospital even if it wasn’t for his blood pressure. He’s dangerously underweight, he’s clearly got problems with intravenous drugs. He shouldn’t be going anywhere. But legally we can’t keep him here against his will. If he wants to leave, he has that right.”

Renly sighed heavily. She hadn't told him anything he hadn't known. “You won't succeed in keeping him in," he told her wearily. "He's as stubborn as anything."

She nodded, glancing sideways at the doctors who too nodded. "In which case we may as well sign the discharge papers now,” she said. “It’s better at least that he doesn’t leave by himself.”

 

* * *

 

 

Loras hadn't moved by the time Renly re-entered the room, but he looked up as Renly and the nurse approached. He looked surprised to see Renly there, and Renly imagined that he hadn't been expecting him to come back. He looked almost relieved to see him though, and Renly had to bite back a sigh. As strange as it was that he was here with Loras Tyrell, he was glad that he'd come. If nothing else, he'd given Loras a little company, a little something to take his mind off things.

Renly sat back down on the edge of the bed as the nurse fiddled with the IV in Loras' arm, peeling the tape away from his skin before removing the little tube. It bled rather a lot and raising Loras’ arm, she pressed a pad of cotton wool against it.

Loras said nothing as she worked. He didn't even seem to feel the IV being pulled from his arm. He just looked hopefully up at Renly.

"Come on then," Renly sighed in defeat, a little unsure as to why he was agreeing. He supposed it was pity perhaps that had got the better of him. "Let’s go.”

Loras sat up with all the strength he had. “To a hotel? I don’t care which one it is.” Leaning over, he started fumbling with his things that lay on the bedside table. There wasn't much, only a phone, a few credit cards and a folded pile of clothes which he'd evidently been wearing when he'd come in, but Loras' fingers were shaking so much he could barely get a hold of them.

Renly looked at him. Quite honestly, he didn't want to take Loras home; he had no desire to get involved with the train-wreck that was lying in bed. He looked so pale and tiny though, and Renly just sighed. Memories were beginning to tug as his heart-strings, memories of him and Loras curled up under blankets, Loras desperate for Renly to hold him as they made love. He supposed he had made Loras that promise and he supposed he owed him that much.

“No,” he said quietly, “Not a hotel. I’ll take you home. You’re in no state to look after yourself.”

Loras just collapsed back against the pillows like a rag doll. He didn’t thank Renly out loud, it wasn’t in his nature to do so, but Renly thought he was probably grateful.


	28. Chapter 28

It was nearly midnight by the time that Loras was officially discharged, and Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen so many doctors so unwilling to allow a patient to leave. They’d attempted to sit down and reason with Loras several times, and when that had failed, they’d sat Renly down instead, having him write down his contact details on three hundred thousand forms so that they could send someone round in an emergency.

Now, Renly thought he was prepared for all Loras could throw at him. In one pocket he had more of what the nurse had called benzodiazepines, this time more simply called Lorazepam- the name of which Renly had found rather morbidly amusing. In the other pocket he had a very detailed flow chart drawn by doctors which gave him a step by step guide as to what he was to do in every possible scenario. If Loras was agitated, anxious or couldn’t sleep for instance, he was to have one dose of Lorazepam. If that failed to work, he was to wait half an hour before taking a second dose of Lorazepam. Under no circumstances, however, was he to have a third dose of Lorazepam within a twelve hour period. This, apparently, was paramount.

The other side of the flow chart was devoted to any more serious problems Loras might have during the night and this was relatively simple, Renly thought. Whilst feeling like you’d been kicked in the chest was apparently normal after defibrillation, unsurprising really seeing as it essentially involved having an electric shock to the heart, if that chest pain worsened, Renly was to call 999 immediately. If the pain was stabbing, he was to call 999; if the pain spread to his left arm, he was to call 999; if he became out of breath, he was to call 999. Dizziness, 999; heart palpitations, 999; a fluttering or noticeably irregular heart-beat, 999; seizures, 999.

Basically, Renly gathered, he was to call 999 if in any slight doubt. Otherwise, he was to keep Loras warm, dry, and as calm as he could. He was to have nothing but water, and food if he wanted it- something which was _doubtful_ as one doctor had scathingly remarked with a quick glance at Loras’ frail form but which was to be encouraged. Showers were out of the question- in case he collapsed and hit his head. Baths, on the other hand, _were_ acceptable, as long as the water wasn’t cold and he was dried very carefully afterwards.

Keeping him warm was the most important thing apparently, and the doctors seemed to have followed through on their own advice, for whilst Loras was still in his hospital gown when Renly returned from signing the discharge forms, he’d now been wrapped up very tightly in several thermal blankets. Sat on a chair in his room, he appeared to Renly like a swaddled child, bundled up and ready to face February’s chill.

Reassured now that he was going to be discharged, his initial desperation to get out of hospital seemed to have faded, and he seemed to have lost the little energy he’d had earlier. He was lifeless, silent, and he didn’t even seem to notice the indignity of being taken to Renly’s car in nothing but his hospital gown and his blankets. He didn't even protest when nurses guided him into a wheelchair to be taken down to the ground floor.

He was put on Renly’s back-seat, where apparently he’d be most comfortable, and he barely moved during the half an hour that it took Renly to get home. Nor did he say a word. Dazed and dog-tired, he just leant heavily against the car door, not quite asleep, but not quite with it either.

He didn’t stir even when Renly pulled up outside his flat, and Renly had to lean over and shake his shoulder gently to get any kind of reaction out of him. He raised his head rather feebly then, fumbling with the door handle and trying to get out once he realised they were home. It wasn’t until Renly had got out himself though and walked round to help him that he managed it, stumbling out precariously onto the pavement with his blankets trailing behind him.

Getting him up the stairs was more of a challenge, Renly thought. Loras seemed to have no strength, he could barely put one foot in front of the other, and as he wobbled precariously on his long spindly legs as Renly helped him tackle one small step at a time, he reminded Renly of a newborn colt- all legs and no balance.

He was red-faced and trembling with exertion by the time he’d managed the last step, and he collapsed heavily onto the sofa as soon as it was within reach, his eyes closing wearily and a small sigh escaping his lips. The short trip had evidently worn him out and Renly wondered now if he ought to have offered to carry Loras up the stairs. Somehow though, all he imagined he’d have got for his trouble would have been a very offended and a very put-out Loras.

He’d have liked to put Loras straight to bed, but Renly could remember all too well what a state he’d left his bedroom in. He scratched his head, wondering if he could just leave Loras sat on the sofa whilst he tidied up. He didn’t like to, and yet he couldn’t quite understand why he felt like that. It wasn’t like any harm could befall him there; he would be quite safe tucked amongst the cushions and blankets.

“I’ve got a bit of stuff to clear up in my bedroom,” he told Loras softly, giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder. “Are you okay to just sit here for a little while, or shall I run you a bath or something?”

Loras forced his eyes open, raising his face up to Renly's. “Can’t I just sleep here?” he said. Feebly, he pulled his blanket closer around him and leant his head against a cushion.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You’re not well,” he pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. “You can’t sit on a sofa all night. How much of a bastard do you think I am? I promised the hospital that I was going to take care of you for the evening and that's what I plan to do."

Loras frowned. The idea of having to be taken care of evidently upset him. “No really,” he protested, eyes very slightly narrowed. “I shan’t sleep anyway, and I’m perfectly aware that you won’t want me in your bed. I’ll be fine just here. There’s nothing even wrong with me.” Shifting, he folded his long legs up underneath him, quite ready to settle down there for the night.

Renly just sighed. He was in no mood to argue with Loras. He’d had his evening cut short, his chances at a good shag dashed, and really, he just wanted Loras to behave like any normal ill person would and take the bed without kicking up a fuss. Taking care of someone was hard enough without that person deciding that they didn't want to be taken care of.

“I’ll run you a bath,” Renly decided for him, seeing as Loras looked unlikely to cooperate. “You’ll feel more comfortable for it, and then we can talk about where you’re going to sleep.” Without waiting for Loras to answer, he headed off to the bathroom, turning the taps as far as they would go. Loras had been loath to admit it but he'd always been rather fond of bubble bath, and so Renly added a generous amount of it, swirling it about with his fingers as he watched the liquid turn to froth.

It didn’t take long for the bath to fill up, and to his surprise, Loras didn’t protest when Renly beckoned him towards the bathroom. Instead, he wobbled to his feet to follow him. On reflection though, Renly supposed he ought not to be so shocked at his cooperation. After all, Loras must have known best that his forehead was sticky with dried sweat and that his hair had clumped together.

Renly tested the water’s temperature before letting Loras anywhere near it, and as he bade Loras sit down on his bathroom stool, he was hit with an odd sense of déjà vu. Some of the memories were blurred now, but it seemed just like yesterday that he’d been running a bath for Loras and putting him to bed. Loras had been vicious that evening and yet somehow, Renly remembered feeling distinctly more sorry for him then than he did now. He supposed that that was what time had done to him.

Biting back a sigh, he glanced at Loras’ face. His expression was faraway somehow, and Renly wondered if Loras too was lost in memories. He suspected he probably was.

“There’s shampoo and conditioner there,” Renly told him. “And towels are in the cupboard there. Big ones on the left and ones for your hair on the right.”

“I know, Renly,” Loras said wearily. “I did used to live here remember?”

Renly ignored that. “Are you going be all right by yourself?” he asked.

"Of course I am," was Loras' rather indignant reply. He appeared quite affronted to have been asked, and Renly knew he was mortified at the idea of being watched in the bath, supervised like a small child who couldn't be trusted to take care of himself. It was quite sad, Renly thought. Loras had always been so fiercely independent and yet he was far too weak now to be able to keep his independence. Despite Loras' indignation, it was clear to Renly that Loras would need help with many everyday tasks that he obviously thought himself capable of.

Renly was not going to be the one though to insist that he watched Loras in the bath, and so he nodded and shut the door behind him. He heard the noise of Loras getting into the water just as he reached his bedroom, and as it wasn't followed by any deafening crashes or dull thumps, Renly assumed he was probably all right.

His room was as horrific as Renly remembered it, and it was rather wearily that he set to trying to tidy the mess away. He wasn't sure where to start, for there were clothes everywhere- on the bed, on the floor, over the back of his chair, even draped across the windowsill. Bending, he started with what was closest, diligently putting garment after garment back onto hangers and into the wardrobe. Surprisingly, Renly found it almost therapeutic after what had been quite a hectic evening, and listening out for any signs of distress from the bathroom, he hummed to himself as his bedroom floor slowly became visible again.

It seemed like an age before everything was back in its proper place, but Loras still hadn't emerged from the bathroom. Renly felt a little conflicted. Part of him feared that Loras had fallen asleep in there or something, but on the other hand, he hardly wanted to barge in there demanding if Loras was all right if Loras just happened to be having a nice long soak.

In the end, he made a compromise with himself. He'd give Loras the benefit of the doubt whilst he fetched a glass of water and made the bed, and then he would go to check on him.

He’d just finished straightening the pillows though when Loras made the decision for him.

The call was feeble, faint through the bathroom door and echoing a little, but Renly heard it. He'd been listening out for it after all. Placing the pillows back on the bed, he returned to the bathroom.

He knocked loudly. "You okay in there Loras?" he asked. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“Yeah,”

Renly opened the door. Loras was still in the bath, panting, his face flushed red. There were still easily enough bubbles to allow him some modesty though, and apparently oddly conscious of being seen like this, Loras seemed to have sunk as deeply into the water as possible to avoid baring himself.

“What’s the matter?” Renly asked.

Loras mumbled something inaudible.

“Sorry?” Renly asked.

“I can’t get out,” Loras muttered, looking down at the water miserably.

“Oh,” Renly looked down at him a little pitifully. He wasn't surprised though. It did take rather a lot of strength to pull oneself out of that bath. Sighing, he stepped forward to help him, for whilst Loras hadn't explicitly asked for help, Renly assumed that was what he was getting at.

Loras was all wet and slippery but Renly managed to grasp his wrists and pull him to his feet. He’d have liked to take a good look at him and see for himself how thin he was, but there were too many bubbles and Loras seemed to have enough energy to yank a towel almost desperately to him and wrap it around himself.It was one of the huge fluffy ones that had always been Loras’ favourites, and Loras tucked it around him like it was a blanket as Renly guided him back to the stool. He rubbed himself dry as best he could, and Renly would have helped him had it not seemed a bit intrusive.

“Well let’s get you to bed,” Renly sighed once he was dry, wondering if he ought to bother trying to tempt him with some food before he put him to bed. One look at Loras’ pale, tired face told him not to waste his time. “Hopefully you’ll have a good night’s sleep."

Loras nodded, and still clutching his towel around him tightly like a shield, he followed Renly to the bedroom. Weary beyond belief from his struggle with the bath, the fight seemed to have gone out of him now, and Renly thought he'd take the bed without a fuss.

“Let’s find you some pyjamas,” Renly said softly.

“I’m fine.” Loras muttered quickly. “I can put what I had on earlier back on.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You were in a hospital gown with a blanket around you.”

Loras shrugged. He then watched as Renly went to his wardrobe and pulled some brightly coloured clothes from one of the shelves. Somehow, Renly thought bright colours might help. He tossed them over to Loras.

Loras paused awkwardly, the pyjamas clutched in his hands as he tried to keep his towel in place too. “Could I have some privacy?” he asked quietly.

Renly just laughed. “I’ve seen you naked a thousand times, Loras.” More to the point, he couldn’t see Loras managing to change himself on his own. Getting a gown off was one thing but pyjamas had legs to step into, and sleeves to force arms into.

“Still,” Loras protested, shaking his head so that his damp curls bounced. “I can go back in the bathroom if I have to.”

Renly just sighed. He’d learnt long ago that he couldn’t help anyone who didn’t want to be helped and so picking up his own pyjamas, Renly removed himself from the room, dutifully pulling the door to behind him. He couldn’t help, however, peeking through the tiny crack in the door frame to watch Loras undress. Loras had his back to him and even from his poor vantage point, Renly could see immediately why Loras didn’t want to see him undress. He was a proper state, a virtual skeleton, and Renly could make out every single one of the bones in his spine.

He struggled with the clothes Renly had given him, and once he was finally in them, he looked lost in the yards of fabric. The pyjamas virtually swamped him, and Loras seemed to realise this too, for several times he attempted to pull the garments tighter around him, as if he would be able to hide his tiny frame. He couldn’t even get the bottoms to stay up around his hips until he managed to loop the drawstring around him and tie it in a tight knot. He tugged down too on the sleeves as if to try and make them longer and no doubt he was trying to hide the small bruises that mottled his arms.

“Can I come back in?” Renly murmured, feeling a little pity stir in his chest.

“Yeah okay,”

Renly opened the door to find Loras climbing precariously into bed where he no doubt felt he could hide behind the covers. In his haste to get under the sheets though, he'd climbed in on what had always been Renly's side whilst they'd been together. This seemed to bother him, and screwing his face up with effort, he shuffled his frail little body over to the side he evidently thought of as his. Indeed, he looked much more at ease there, and once again Renly was hit with an unsettling sense of deja vu.

Renly almost got into the other side of the bed out of habit, and walking round to him, he forced himself merely to perch on the edge of the bed. It was odd, he thought, how old habits died hard. He had no desire to get into bed with Loras and yet still, he was compelled almost by instinct to do it. “Do you think you’ll sleep?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Loras whispered, resting his head against the pillows. "I hope so."

“Do you want your lorazepam now?” Renly still had his medication in his pockets and he drew it out now, placing it on the bedside table.

Loras nodded, and his fingers quivering only ever so slightly now, he pried one from the foil wrapper. Sitting up as best he could, he swallowed it down with the glass of water Renly had placed there for him before flopping back down again and pulling the duvet feebly up over his shoulders. He was still shivering though, and Renly wondered whether they'd dried him carefully enough. He supposed there was little he could do now though short of stripping Loras and taking a towel to him again, and so he merely went to his wardrobe and pulled a few blankets out from a drawer. He tucked them carefully around Loras, the doctors' words about keeping him warm and dry ringing in his ears.

“Just try and sleep Loras," he sighed once he was satisfied that Loras was as tucked up as he could be. "You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Mmm,” Loras murmured. “If you say so,” He didn't seem convinced, and Renly wondered if he was thinking about tomorrow's headlines. Renly doubted that they would be pleasant after all.

“Everything always seems better in the morning," he insisted anyway, patting Loras' arm.

Loras just shrugged, or at least Renly thought he did. It was hard to tell with the amount of blankets that Renly had managed to cover him with.

“And we’ll call your family in the morning shall we? So that they can come and collect you.”

“If we must,” Loras whispered, closing his eyes as if the prospect of that troubled him.

“Do you not want to see them?”

“No I do, but they’ll fuss. Over-react.”

Renly sighed. That was Loras’ problem, not his. He on the other hand was looking distinctly forward to when he could hand Loras over to somebody else. Whilst he'd agreed to look after him tonight, he'd done it mainly out of pity, not out of desire. As heartless as Renly supposed it would seem, he would be very relieved indeed when Loras was somebody else's problem to worry about. And it would be better for Loras too, Renly thought. He needed stability right now, to be surrounded by people who loved him, and Renly didn't think staying with an ex-boyfriend with whom he'd split on very poor terms would give him that.

Renly bent down to squeeze his hand. "I guess I should say good night then," he breathed.

Loras’ eyes snapped back open, wide. “Where are you going?” he asked, and suddenly he seemed fearful again, as if being left alone in Renly's room was as terrifying as having to stay in hospital overnight.

“….to the sofa?” Renly said slowly.

“Oh,”

“You thought I’d stay in here with you,” Renly said bluntly. Even had it not been for him having a new relationship on the horizon, he thought that that was something he'd have steered well clear of. Sharing a bed with an ex was always a dangerous game, Renly thought, regardless of how uninterested he happened to be right now. It would also make explaining the turn of events to Satin a lot more difficult, and Renly was rather planning on not having to tell outright lies.

Loras had evidently realised his faux pas now. His cheeks had turned red and he turned his face away ever so slightly, embarrassed. “Course not,” he whispered. “I just thought you might stay for a little while is all.”

Renly nodded along to save his pride. "Ah okay. Do you want me to stay for a few minutes then?” He patted his arm again, a little robotically.

Loras shook his head almost violently. “No it’s okay.”

“You sure? You going to be okay in here on your own?” As unwilling as Renly was to get into bed with him, he did wonder if Loras would be all right all alone, and part of him was toying with the idea of bringing the sofa cushions to sleep on in here. Just so that he could be that bit nearer if Loras had any problems.

“Course I am,” Loras said haughtily, and with that he seemingly summoned all his remaining effort and rolled over. Renly was clearly dismissed.


	29. Chapter 29

It was unbearably cold in the living room and Renly wrapped the only spare duvet he had tightly around him on the sofa to try and trap his body heat in. He felt a little more relaxed now that he knew Loras was safely tucked up in bed, but with no urge yet to go to sleep, he took out his phone to text Satin.

He was on the fence over what to tell him. On one hand, he very much wanted to explain everything to Satin tonight, to be upfront and honest about what had happened so that Satin didn't think he was hiding things from him. On the other, he thought it best to wait until he’d handed Loras safely over to his family tomorrow before he told anyone anything. He didn’t think Satin was the sort to go to the papers but he didn’t think either that he would do well to advertise the fact that Loras was staying with him tonight. Despite everyone's best intentions, that news would no doubt spread like wildfire, and Renly would wake up tomorrow morning to find reporters on his doorstep, lying in wait on the pavement outside.

Renly wrote several potential texts, but deleted all of them, his attempts at explaining the turn of events in a sufficiently vague way coming across as merely very suspicious. He settled eventually for apologising once more and asking if they could see each other again soon. Feeling an odd urge of fondness too for the boy he'd had to abandon this evening, he even added four kisses to the end, which was something he'd almost never done. Loras, he knew would have been horrified to see kisses on the end of texts to him, but Satin, he thought, was more likely to be appreciative.

He felt better once the text was sent, and yawning, he pulled his thin duvet up to his neck to try and go to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Despite his best intentions, Renly didn’t get even a wink of sleep. He tossed and turned all night, his legs tucked either uncomfortably up to his chest or dangling off the end of the sofa. He was awake, thus, to hear his bedroom door creak open at about three in the morning, the soft pad of Loras' footsteps so quiet that, had Renly not been wide awake, he didn't think he'd have been roused.

He expected to hear the bathroom door opening and shutting, but didn’t, and so wearily, he forced himself out of his warm cocoon of duvet. He supposed that it was his duty to see what Loras was after, and the pessimistic part of him was sure that Loras was going to come and tell him that he had some symptom or another that Renly would need to call 999 for.

Loras looked a little like a ghost when Renly found him on the landing, his face whiter than pale and his bleached curls a halo of frizz around him. He startled when he saw Renly, tripping over his too long pyjama bottoms and looking all too much like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You all right?” Renly breathed.

Loras nodded rather stiffly, hitching his pyjamas up a little so that his feet were in contact with the floor again. He said nothing, just shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other as he refused to meet Renly's eye. He was clearly jittery, a little agitated, and Renly wondered if Loras wanted another one of the tablets the doctors had prescribed for him. He was allowed a second dose after all, and from the look of him, he certainly needed one. His face was far too pale, a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead, and he was shivering, or shaking perhaps, uncontrollably.

"Do you want another tablet?" Renly asked him gently, steadying him with a hand.

Loras shook his head. "No," he murmured hoarsely. "Where are my things?"

Renly had no recollection of bringing Loras' small bundle of things in; they had to still be on the back seat where Loras had been lying. "I suppose they must be in the car," he told him.

Loras stumbled forward, and Renly took hold of his shoulder hastily. "Do you want me to bring them?” he asked. He had no real desire to brave the frosty February night for the sake of what had appeared to Renly as merely a few bits and pieces of clothing which were probably soaked with sweat, and yet he knew Loras would attempt to go himself if he didn't. He supposed too that it might be his phone that Loras was after, and that seemed quite a reasonable request; it might be that, finding the night more difficult than he'd anticipated, he wanted now to phone his family after all.

“I can go," Loras protested. He wobbled on his long legs as he tried to surge forward.

Renly laughed ruefully, restraining him with as gentle hand as he could manage. "It's below zero out there, Loras, and it's forecast to snow these next few days. You're not going out anywhere." He patted his arm softly and gave him a nudge back towards the bedroom. "Now you be good and get back into bed. I’ll bring your stuff for you.”

Loras looked rather reluctant but he headed back to Renly’s bedroom as he was bid. Renly waited until he heard the rustling of blankets and the creaking of his bed before he headed back down the landing, pulling a coat on over his pyjamas and shoving his feet into the nearest pair of shoes he could find.

The night's air was so cold that it stung his face, and Renly could barely feel his fingers as he fumbled with his car keys. The bag of Loras' things was on the back seat though, and Renly grabbed it with his numb hands, wishing that he'd grabbed a scarf and gloves for his albeit short venture outside.

Loras was in back in bed when Renly came in with his bundle of things, sitting up in bed propped up by his many pillows. Renly perched on the edge of the bed beside him to hand him his things. As far as he could see, there was indeed nothing more than a pile of folded clothes and a phone, and assuming it was the phone that Loras was after, Renly pressed it into his hands. He was surprised, thus, when Loras took it from him half-heartedly, placing it straight on the bedside table when he found that the battery was dead.

“I can probably find you a charger for it if you like?" Renly asked.

Loras shrugged. “It’s fine. I'm not that bothered."

Renly frowned. “Then what did you want?”

Loras shifted uncomfortably. “Nothing really,” He looked away from Renly’s gaze and Renly's raised an eyebrow. He looked suddenly suspicious, and Renly wondered why he'd ever queried what Loras would be so desperate for at three in the morning.

“Nothing, my arse,” he sighed, prying the bag out out of Loras' things. Loras didn't even bother to protest and he merely stared miserably down at his fingernails as Renly took out his clothes one by one. It was Loras' jacket that Renly was after, and slipping his hand into the inside pocket, he found exactly what he'd expected to find. Quite honestly, Renly didn't know what to say, and he just placed the jacket and its offending contents out of Loras' reach.

Loras watched him do it rather pathetically, head cocked to the side. “Please, Ren,” he whispered once Renly turned back to face him. “My head’s pounding, my entire body aches, I’m so exhausted that it hurts. I just need a little.”

Renly just sighed, unable not to pity him. He laid his hand on Loras' trembling arm. "You put yourself in hospital today, Loras," he told him softly, "and you’re still intent on killing yourself? You could have died this evening."

Loras’ eyes narrowed instantaneously. “I was fine,” he spat. “They had no business taking me to that hospital. My career will be in tatters by tomorrow morning and it’s all their fault. There’s nothing even wrong with me,”

Renly stifled a groan. He'd had no real desire to argue with Loras, but that tipped him over the edge. He looked at the frail creature propped up in bed with pillows. "Nothing wrong with you?”he asked in disbelief.

Loras nodded stubbornly.

“Look at yourself.”

Loras scowled, the grimace twisting across his gaunt face like barbed wire. “What do you mean?”

“Bloody hell,” Renly hissed. Putting a hand under each of Loras’ arms, he yanked him from the bed. He set him down on his wobbly legs in front of the mirror, holding him up so that he didn't fall down. "Nothing wrong with you?" he asked again. "Look, Loras."

Loras merely tried to wrench himself out of Renly's grip. He barely had the strength to stand up by himself though, let alone to force Renly to let go of him. When that didn't work, he merely turned his head away violently.

Renly forced his head back around. “I said _look_.”

With his head held in place, Loras had no avenues of escape left to him. Warily, Loras looked. He looked and must have seen what Renly saw, must have seen his gaunt face, the hollows around his eyes, the dark circles under them. He must have seen his pallor and the way his collarbone jutted out. He can’t have missed his limp curls either, the thin and brittle state they were in, or his jagged cheekbones.

He seemed a little confused as he looked, and Renly wondered how long it had been since Loras had had a good long honest look in a mirror. Indeed, he shook slightly as he stared, biting down on his lower lip so hard that he almost drew blood. His reflection angered him, it was clear to see, and Loras’ entire body trembled with rage, or shame perhaps. His reflection, it seemed, had betrayed him.

"I'm not so bad," he whispered, but even he must have heard the lie in his words.

"Yeah you are," Renly told him firmly anyway, past the point of stepping around Loras' pride. Someone, it seemed, had to be cruel to be kind, and with nothing more left to lose between them, Renly thought it might as well be him. "You know what, Loras," he sighed, "When I met you I thought you were the most handsome man I'd ever laid eyes on."

A shadow of a smile lit up Loras' wasted face. "You did?"

"Yeah," Renly told him. "I did. I don't now."

The smile disappeared as soon as it had come and Loras' face fell. "You don't?" he whispered.

"No," Renly said. "I don't. You've ruined yourself, Loras. You used to be beautiful, and you're far from it now."

Those were words that Loras didn't want to hear, words that he couldn't hear, and he shook his head slightly, his scowl returning as he continued to stare into the mirror. "Why are you saying that?" he demanded, his voice shaking uncontrollably as he focused once more on his reflection.

"Because it's true."

"It's not true," Loras spat. "Just shut up." He was trembling again, and he tried to wrench Renly's hands off him for a second time. This time, Renly let him, and Loras only wobbled ever so slightly as Renly let go of him.

Renly ignored being told to shut up, and he just patted his shoulder gently. "I’ll leave you here,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute,”

Loras said nothing as Renly picked up his jacket and took the packet of cocaine out of it. He didn't even notice Renly. He just stared, bewildered, into the mirror, as if he quite couldn't believe that it was his reflection staring back.

Renly left him there with his thoughts, closing the door quietly behind him. He tried not to think how many hundreds of pounds he was holding in the packet in his hands, and instead of simply putting it in the bin, Renly tore open the packet and washed it down the sink. Loras, he thought, would be furious when he realised Renly hadn't merely hidden his fix away, but this way Renly wouldn't wake up to find him rooting desperately through the bin.

He was just wiping the sink clean when he was startled by a loud crash from the bedroom, and he acted on instinct. He dropped his dishcloth without hesitation and hurried back down the landing, unable not to think the worst.

He pushed open his bedroom door anxiously, and whilst he hadn't been quite sure what he'd expected to see, he wasn't sure if he ought to be relieved or not. Loras hadn't collapsed, or fainted; it was the mirror whose fall Renly had heard. It was now on its side, the glass that it had earlier held shattered in pieces across the carpet. Loras was on his knees amongst those broken shards. His fist was bloody.

" _Loras,_ " Renly breathed. "Why on earth did you do that?"

It was only then that Loras seemed to notice him, and bewildered, he looked first up at Renly and then down at the jagged pieces of glass that were scattered about the carpet. He seemed almost confused to see them there and then he looked at his bleeding hand.

He seemed suddenly a little disorientated and he looked back up at Renly with wide eyes. "I don't know why I did that," he whispered.

Renly was quiet for a minute. Loras claimed not to know why he'd done that, and yet Renly thought he himself did. He looked down at the shards of the broken mirror and then at the boy sat amongst them, a boy who hadn’t been able to bear his own reflection. Renly's words earlier had evidently hit home, _hard_ , harder than Loras had been able to bear.

Sighing, Renly knelt down beside him, brushing the pieces of glass away as best he could. "It doesn't matter," he told him gently. He took Loras' bleeding hand in his. "Let's just get you cleaned up shall we?"

Loras just nodded, his eyes wet and glistening as he stared shamefully at the floor. He let Renly hold his hand without complaint though, and he didn't even wince as Renly pulled several jagged shards of glass from his knuckles. He just bowed his curly head, a few tears sliding down his cheeks that he was evidently ashamed of. He said nothing, and when Renly pulled his pyjama top off to try and stem Loras' bleeding hand with it, he clutched his own too large t-shirt to him almost desperately with his uninjured hand, as if he could hide behind the fabric.

"It's all right," Renly soothed as he applied pressure to Loras' hand. "Don't cry." The cuts weren't deep and Renly was pretty confident that he'd got all the glass out, but he didn't think it was the pain that was responsible for Loras' tears.

Loras nodded again, and shifting slightly on the floor, he rested his forehead against Renly's bare shoulder. His cheeks were still wet, but this time Renly didn't tell him to stop crying. He just slipped an arm around him and held him there, letting the tears trickle slowly down his face as they sat together amongst the broken glass.

Loras' reflection was gone now, shattered into a hundred pieces, but Renly didn't think he needed the mirror now to see what a mess he'd made of himself.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going away for a week I'm afraid, so there will be a week long gap now. Apologies!

Loras was as quiet as a lamb as Renly helped him to his feet and led him to the bathroom to run his hand under the tap. It had stopped bleeding now and Loras let Renly wash it in warm water with very good grace. He didn't even complain when his cuts were cleaned with antiseptic, and he merely stood in front of the sink with his face down-turned towards the tiled floor, the occasional tear still rolling down his face as he did his best not to look in the bathroom mirror.

His lurking reflection was the elephant in the room, and Renly made it easier for him as he rummaged through his mediocre supply of first-aid materials for some plasters, sitting him down on the bathroom stool and turning him deliberately away from the mirror. Indeed, Loras seemed a little less distressed now that he was facing the door, and he even managed a whispered apology as Renly patted his hand dry with a towel and bandaged up his cuts.

His hand seen to, Renly supposed the most _sensible_ thing to do would have been to put him straight back to bed where he could get some rest, but the thought of shutting him back into an empty dark room to cry by himself didn't sit well with Renly's conscience. It was something Renly simply couldn't do. It was for lack of any better options, thus, that Renly led him to the sofa. As gently as he could, he sat him down amongst the duvet and pillow that had made up Renly's make-shift bed earlier. 

"I was thinking of putting a film on," he confided, as Loras wiped his tear-stained face with his sleeve. "Unless you want to go back to bed?"

"Not really," Loras whispered. "But if you want me to I will. It's not fair that you sit up with me."

It was the most words he'd said for half an hour and Renly tried to smile at him. "It's all right," he soothed. "I don't mind." It was a lie. Part of him _did_ mind- he was so tired that he could have curled up on the kitchen floor to go to sleep- but it wasn't like he could say anything else. Loras, it was plain to see, needed some kind of company tonight, even if Renly did nothing more than sit beside him on the sofa and keep him from being alone.

"Okay," Renly said as cheerfully as he could manage, "Well I'm just going to go put a shirt back on, and then I'll be right back." The pyjama top he'd been wearing earlier was now lying blood-stained on Renly's bedroom floor, and he felt rather conscious without a shirt on, as if Loras might look at him and get the wrong idea. 

He had to tread carefully in his bedroom, avoiding the broken glass as best as he could, and he selected the first t-shirt he saw in his wardrobe. He couldn't help though but sit down heavily on his bed, trying to compose himself a bit before returning to a likely night of silence with Loras. Checking his phone, he was disappointed to see that there was still no reply from Satin, and unable to face the music just yet, Renly found his fingers bringing up the internet, his curiosity getting the better of him.

He wasn't disappointed. The first news site he visited was already declaring in big bold letters that Loras hadn't had such a pleasant evening.

_LORAS TYRELL rushed to hospital after suffering drug overdose_ , it read. _The 22-year-old model, who fainted just last week at New York Fashion Week, was allegedly found collapsed in his hotel room surrounded by drug paraphernalia. The star was taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital, witnesses claim. His current condition is yet unknown._

Sighing, Renly pressed the back button and chose another one. This one, he thought, was worse, a lot worse, and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

_Has Loras Tyrell committed SUICIDE?_ the title read. _Sources close to the star claim that the supermodel was "deeply unhappy" and that on more than one occasion he admitted that he'd contemplated taking his own life._

This, Renly knew, was absolute bullshit and he refused to read any further. For one, Loras wasn't the type to simply give in like that, but more pertinently, Renly thought, he certainly wasn't the type to confide to a bunch of nobodies that he was unhappy, let alone that he didn't want to live anymore. Loras, he knew, was far far too much of a private person for that.

All the same though, Renly sighed as he closed the tab. He hoped to God that Loras wouldn't see any of the articles, or any of the pictures that accompanied them. Somehow, he thought that this was wishful thinking, and yet he did have some faith in Loras' family. From what little he'd seen of them, he imagined they'd do their very best to protect Loras from as much of the upsetting media coverage as they could. In this day and age though, Renly had to doubt how successful they'd be.

Loras hadn't moved when Renly returned to him, and wrapped up in his duvet with his skinny arms around his skinny knees, Renly couldn't help but think he looked ever so lonely. He'd evidently been crying in Renly's absence, his eyes a little more red, his cheeks a little more wet, and Renly looked away as Loras wiped his face once more.

“Are you all right, Loras?” he asked softly, sliding a film into the DVD player.

Loras shrugged, his eyes swimming with tears. "I've been better," he whispered.

Sighing, Renly sat down next to him. He didn’t complain when Loras shifted slightly closer. He might have done if Loras had tried to clamber into his arms. This, however, Renly thought, was a nice compromise. It wasn’t as if he and Loras were tangled up together or anything, but with their shoulders and thighs touching through duvets, Loras could probably feel the warmth and weight of him beside him. It was probably a comfort to him, Renly thought sadly, and indeed, when he next looked down at Loras, he looked calmer, less wide-eyed and frightened.

“Ren,” he said softly after a while. His voice was quiet and barely audible. 

“Yes?”

“I’ve really missed you.”

Renly bit back a sigh. There was an odd sort of innocence in Loras' words, but he thought them dangerous all the same. He took a deep steadying breath before he spoke. “I mean this in the gentlest way possible Loras, but I don’t think that’s a road we should be going down.”

Loras bit down on his lower lip, “Okay,” he whispered. He didn't ask Renly to elaborate, and Renly thought he'd probably understood that Renly was seeing somebody else now. Indeed, he'd shrunk back into himself again. His and Renly's thighs were certainly no longer touching.

They sat in silence after that, and Renly thought he'd have been able to cut the tension in the air with a bread knife. Loras' gaze was fixed on the flickering screen, and yet his eyes were glassy, his expression glazed. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere, and where ever "elsewhere" was, Renly didn't think it was very pleasant. Loras' eyes were sad somehow, and he had a defeated air about him that didn't suit him. Hunched over himself with his injured hand clutched to his frail chest, he was a pitiful sight.

He only returned to the real world when Renly's phone buzzed, painfully loud even over the rain outside, and he watched, curiously, as Renly picked his phone up to read the text that he knew was from Satin. 

_Hey Renly,_ the text read. _Really don't worry about tonight. It was lovely to see anyway, even if it was only very briefly. Of course we can reschedule. In fact the sooner the better. Hope everything's alright on your end and that nothing too serious was wrong. What are you doing still up anyway? Shouldn't you be in bed? ;)_

It was too late that Renly realized he was probably grinning like an idiot, and sneaking a glance at Loras, he was pained to see that he looked painfully uncomfortable. He was staring at the screen as if his life depended on it, but even Loras couldn't hide the way his finds were trembling. Whether this was because he was desperate for the cocaine that Renly had washed down the sink, or because he found the bright smile upon Renly's face upsetting, it was impossible to tell. 

He seemed to know Renly was staring at him, and eventually he tore his gaze away from the film he hadn't been watching, looking down at his hands as if he was inspecting them. “Is that your boyfriend?” he asked quietly, and he failed rather terribly at keeping the misery out of his voice.

Renly paused. Satin wasn't his boyfriend, not technically, not yet, but it seemed fairly clear now that he would be. People who were casually seeing each other just for a couple of dates certainly didn't exchange text messages at four am in the morning. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I suppose he is.”

Loras said nothing to that; he just looked back at the screen. Renly left him to it, picking his phone back up. 

_Everything's fine_ , he texted back. _I'll explain everything in person. It's just easier that way. And hey, you're obviously awake too. Why aren't you in bed? ;)_

Satin texted back instantaneously this time, and Renly couldn't help smirking at his response, for it was one that he wouldn't have expected from Satin.

_I am in bed,_ he'd said. _Alone sadly. But I am in bed._

They exchanged several more texts after that, each one a little more suggestive than the other, and whilst Renly felt a little guilty about it, he didn't really know what else he could do, not without appearing to be very rude to Satin. After a while though, he got himself up and fetched Loras' own phone out of guilt, along with a charger he thought would fit it. This way, perhaps, Loras wouldn't feel so left out.

"Here," he said, plugging it in at the mains. "I thought you might want to contact your parents soon."

Loras took it from him silently and looking over his shoulder, Renly watched Loras turn it on. He was surprised to see that as soon as it blinked to life, Loras just put it down on the coffee table, uninterested. He personally would have been in a hurry to see his messages, but Loras oddly seemed to have more interest in the film that he wasn't even managing to follow.

Renly watched the screen for him, and yet no messages popped up; even after the phone had long had time to warm up and start delivering stuff, the phone remained silent, its screen staunchly black. 

Renly was just peering over to check that Loras had signal when Loras caught him looking. He shifted awkwardly next to Renly “I told you I had nobody else to call,” he mumbled, inspecting his bandaged hand once more as if it were fascinating. 

Renly cocked his head sadly. Everyone, he thought, even this sad pitiful creature who’d made a mess of his life, deserved to be loved. It was sad that he’d been so ill this evening and yet those people who clung around him, proclaiming to be his best friends, didn’t actually give a damn.

“Perhaps nobody has heard yet,” Renly told him gently, even though he knew that this probably wasn't the case. He'd seen for himself how huge the news that Loras had been in hospital this evening already way. It had gone viral on Twitter, Facebook and every other form of social media.

Loras shrugged though. “It’ll have gone to press hours ago, Ren," he said miserably.

Renly took his hand. He didn't try to correct him. 

“Why don’t you text your family then?”

Loras nodded and picked his phone back up. His fingers were still shaking though and he couldn't make heads or tails of the touch screen. Three or four times, he attempted to tap out a message, and yet each time only gibberish appeared on the screen, even the iphone's auto-correct not powerful enough to fix Loras' mistakes. Eventually, Renly pried it out of his hands gently.

"What do you want to say?" he sighed. 

"Just tell them to come and collect me," Loras whispered, turning away now that he didn't have to worry about getting the message sent himself, "And put your address."

"That's all you want to say?" Renly would have thought he might have added a few explanations perhaps, a few assurances that he was all right, but Loras just shrugged at the suggestion. He seemed in no mood to elaborate.

"Yeah," he said quietly, tugging at the tassels on a cushion. "That's all I want to say."

Renly shrugged. Each to their own, he thought. "Who shall I send it to then?"

"Willas."

Renly scrolled down his contacts to get to the letter _W_ , and as he did so, he was a little surprised to see his own name. It appeared twice in fact. The first was simply _Renly_ , which was no doubt his mobile number, but the second was listed as _Renly and Me Home_. This one hit home harder, and sadly, Renly stared at it for a good few moments. For some reason, seeing that Loras had never altered that entry in his phone made his chest ache painfully despite the warmth that Satin's texts had filled him with.

It took him a little while to re-compose himself, and once he had done, he scrolled on from the letter _R_ hurriedly, far too aware of how embarrassed Loras would be if he knew Renly had seen him looking to risk lingering. Luckily, he found Willas' name easily, and Renly sent the message off quickly before handing the phone back to Loras.

Loras merely put it back on the table wearily, just as another text buzzed in from Satin on Renly's phone.

Once more, Loras looked as if he'd rather have been anywhere else in the world.

 

* * *

 

 

It was gone six by the time Loras finally dozed off, his face buried in the end of the sofa and a very frail arm wrapped around one of the cushions. He didn't look particularly comfortable- his knees were still tucked up awkwardly to his chest and he was squashed between Renly and the sofa- but at least he was asleep. That, Renly thought, was the most important thing. Loras, he knew, was probably only running on sheer adrenaline now.

Sighing, Renly watched him wearily for a while, hypnotised almost by the soft rise and fall of his chest. It was evidently not a deep sleep he was in, his eyes fluttering every now and then and his hands twitching. He'd have been more comfortable in bed, Renly thought, where he could stretch out his long limbs and be properly in the dark. Yawning, Renly wondered if he should move him. On one hand, Loras would probably be more at ease in bed, but on the other, Renly worried he'd wake him in the process.

He was still a little undecided when he stood, but looking once more at the way Loras' long frail legs were folded up against his chest, he made his decision. Bending, he scooped Loras up into his arms, duvet and all. It was easy enough and Renly was just about to congratulate himself on his strength when he realised that that had nothing to do with it; it had been easy because Loras weighed about as much as a child did, possibly less than some children nowadays.

He even looked like a child in Renly’s double bed, and Renly pulled the duvet up over him with a little pity. It was only then that he fetched the dustpan and brush to clear up the shards of glass across the carpet, and looking from Loras' pale face that was peeking out of the covers to the pile of broken glass he was going to sweep up, it was impossible to believe that it was the frail creature in bed who'd caused such devastation.

 

* * *

 

Renly got only a couple of hours of sleep on the sofa before the weather outside woke him, the rain hammering loudly against the window panes and the wind making the glass shake. Dragging himself up, he made his way to his bedroom. He was unsurprised upon pushing the door ajar to find Loras awake. 

He was sat on the windowsill silently with the curtains still drawn, and Renly found himself hit by a painful wave of nostalgia. Although usually it had been the balcony Loras had favoured, often Renly had woken to find Loras in that exact spot, his back against the wall and his feet brought up on the sill too.

"Morning," Renly said quietly, forcing the memories from his mind. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Not really, thank you."

Renly knew better than to push. He thought he'd let Loras' family do the pushing there. He'd only be in charge of Loras for another hour or so at best, and Renly reckoned that there was decidedly little that he could do in an hour. Loras needed a lot more help than that, he thought.

“Shall I at least open the curtains for you?” Renly sighed.

Loras shifted uncomfortably on the sill. “I wouldn’t,”

“No?” Renly frowned and striding over, he peeked through the curtains. It only took him one glance to understand exactly what Loras meant. As far as the eye could see there were reporters and photographers, all of them crammed onto the pavement outside his flat like sardines in a tin. Renly didn't want to think how many cameras there were, and groaning, he stepped back before anyone down below noticed the curtains twitching.

“How does anyone know you’re here?” he asked.

“You’ll have written your address down on the hospital discharge forms,” Loras said bluntly. He rested his chin on his knees. "It's my fault really. You weren't to know."

Renly paused. He _had_ written down his address on several forms. “But that’s all confidential," he argued.

Loras sighed. “ _Evidently_.”

Renly said nothing. He merely sat down on his bed as he joined Loras in waiting for his family to arrive. Loras, meanwhile, merely continued to sit at the window, listening to the heavy rain and watching the vague shapes of photographers through the curtains. He seemed a little agitated, tapping the fingers of his left hand anxiously against the wooden sill. Renly wondered if he was fearful of having to go out amongst those photographers.

 

* * *

 

 

It was just past nine when Renly heard a disturbance outside, and a little hopeful, he peered through the gap in the curtains. He was pleased to see that the brother of Loras’ who he’d met was making his way to the door. In his wake followed a tiny little old lady, shielded slightly from view by a great umbrella that was almost as big as she was. Neither seemed fazed by the reporters; but even from a distance Renly could see that there were none of the easy smiles on Garlan's face that had been there the last time they'd met. He looked strained, almost as tired as Renly felt, almost as pale-faced as Loras.

All the same, Renly opened the door to them with relief, as carefully as he could, cautious not to let himself be photographed. Pictures, he thought, would just complicate the mess he was in even further. Besides, he thought he'd feel far too much like Hugh Grant in Notting Hill.

It was the old lady who stepped in first, followed closely by Loras' brother. It was only when she closed her umbrella that Renly could get a decent look at her, and his immediate impression was quite how old she looked. Each and every hair on her head was white, and whilst it may once have been curly like Loras', age had made it hard to tell. She was almost impossibly shrunken, bent over a walking stick and so small that Renly could have fit her into his pocket, and yet she held herself like a queen.

"You must be Renly," she said as she held out a wrinkled hand.

Renly shook it, doing his best to smile at her. Usually, he found that courtesies came easily to him, but even he found that he was struggling a little here. His few hours of sleep had not been enough by far, and it seemed like years and years ago that he'd first been phoned during his date with Satin.

"Yes," he said wearily. "I'm Renly. You must be Loras' grandmother." Forcing a very stiff smile, he turned then to Garlan and offered similar niceties. "Loras is in the bedroom," he told him once they'd too shaken hands. "Just down the hall and on the left."

Loras was dressed when Garlan returned with him. Renly had told him earlier that he could borrow one of his jumpers if he liked, and it was an offer Loras had taken him up on. He'd chosen a chunky dark blue one. It hid his tiny frame rather cleverly, and yet nothing, Renly thought, could hide the gaunt dark circles under his eyes. Those eyes were on the floor as he followed his brother down the landing, and he clutched his small bag of belongings to him as if it were all he had to his name, as if he were an evacuee who was on his way to the train station.

“It’s very kind of you to have had Loras last night,” Loras' grandmother told him.

"It was no trouble," Renly lied. He forced another tired smile as Loras and Garlan reached them, almost amused by the fact that Loras seemed a little afraid of his grandmother. Indeed, he was using Garlan as if he were a shield.

“What do you say to Mr. Baratheon, Loras? the old lady said,raising an eyebrow at the way Loras was all but cowering behind his older brother.

Loras glanced miserably at the floor. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

Renly had to stifle a laugh at that. He felt rather like he was back in Primary School, but that this time, instead of being a child himself, he was a mother- a mother whose child had asked Loras round for tea. He himself couldn't even begin the amount of times he'd been collected from some school friend or another's house and been prompted sternly by Stannis to thank his host.

He forced himself not to laugh though. Loras, he thought, wouldn't be able to bear it. “Don’t worry about it," he said instead, giving Loras a gentle pat on the shoulder. “I hope you get better soon yeah?"

Loras raised his face to Renly's momentarily. "Thanks, and if you, you know... If you, well, fancied visiting some time... you'd be really welcome."

"That's very nice of you," Renly managed.

He then watched as Loras was ushered gently out the door, his grandmother on one side and his brother on the other.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back :) And will reply to any remaining comments on Chapter 30 tomorrow :) Just so tired right now that I'll simply fall asleep at the keyboard if I attempt now! Nothing coherent would get written...

17th February 2015

_Loras Tyrell allegedly flees to his family home in Kent following accusations of cocaine abuse. The supermodel was pictured leaving his ex-boyfriend’s flat early this morning accompanied by family members. Shielding his face from the cameras, the 22-year-old looked frail and unsteady on his feet before being helped into a car._

18th February 2015

_Taylor Swift leads the outpouring of support on twitter for disgraced model Loras Tyrell who suffered an overdose on Friday._

_"@LorasTyrell", she tweeted yesterday, "thinking of you. Sending lots of hugs and kisses. #getbettersoon."_

_She was joined by several  more of Tyrell’s ex-girlfriends. “Keep your chin up gorgeous,” was Arianne Martell’s message, whilst Miranda Kerr, linked to Tyrell in September last year, told the fellow supermodel that she hopes he’s “back on the runway soon.”_

 19th February 2015

_Did LORAS TYRELL suffer a HEART ATTACK? Pictured: the moment Loras Tyrell was carried into ambulance outside London hotel as rumours emerge that the leading model was rushed to hospital following severe heart failure.  
_

_The Sun spoke to a guest who was staying at the hotel._

_“An ambulance arrived around seven in the evening, and my family and I were in reception when paramedics brought him down on a stretcher. They’d covered him with a sheet [pictured inset] but everyone seemed to know who it was anyway. There were all these hushed whispers, and several people were taking pictures. I felt quite sorry for him. One of the hotel managers was trying to usher watchers away but there was a veritable crowd outside as he was taken out and lifted into the ambulance."_

20th February 2015

_Chaos at London Fashion Week amidst confusion over whether Loras Tyrell will appear in Friday’s menswear show following drug use allegations. With fears for the supermodel’s health growing by the hour as details begin to emerge of the reasons behind his hospitalisation, rumours have also begun to circulate that both Dior and Chanel will cancel their contracts with the supermodel._

_The Mirror spoke to a co-ordinator at London Fashion Week who told us that “it is highly unlikely Loras Tyrell will be participating in this week’s events." He then went on to say that "regardless of whether action is taken by the designers with whom Tyrell has contracts with, London Fashion Week has a duty of care to any model who participates in our events, and considering the recent allegations and his collapse at New York Fashion Week last week, Loras Tyrell is clearly not well enough to be participating at this point in time."_

22nd February 2015

_London Fashion Week goes on without its star as disgraced supermodel Loras Tyrell is dropped by several major labels._

_The career of the leading British model suffered a series of blows this morning when two companies announced they would no longer be using him to represent their brand. Senior police sources also told the Times they were "very likely" to interview him after launching an investigation into his alleged cocaine use. The source went on to note, however, that it is "not probable" that Tyrell will be charged and that any police investigation will be conducted with the aim of "uncovering the source of the illegal drugs that were supplied to him."_

_According to some sources, the star is said to be recovering at a rehabilitation centre near his family home._

23rd February 2015

 _The commercial damage to supermodel Loras Tyrell escalates as _fashion retailer Topshop scraps an advertising campaign featuring him and cancels their plans for a menswear line on which he was to have creative input.__ _  
_

_The damage began yesterday when_ _Chanel and Dior announced they would sever their links with Tyrell. Chanel said yesterday that they had cancelled by "mutual consent" adverts due to run this spring featuring the model, announcing Tyrell’s contract with them will be cut short by half a year. The three lost or unrenewed contracts will represent a sizeable dent in his multi-million pound earnings._

_“Chanel is shocked and disappointed by the recent press allegations surrounding Loras Tyrell’s behavior,” a company spokesman said yesterday morning. “We expect impeccable conduct from every model who works for us and have therefore taken the decision to cancel his contract.”_

24th February 2015

_The TRUTH about LORAS TYRELL and drugs: How the star  allegedly went on cocaine binges before shoots._

_The supermodel’s drug use was allegedly an "open secret" within the fashion industry, a source claims._

_“It was well known,” our source, who doesn't wish to be named, told us today. “Nobody really spoke about it, but it was an open secret. The girls in charge of his dressing room on set used to turn a blind eye to it. Some even went further. You get to know habits with big stars when you're working in the dressing rooms. Gisele wants bottled mineral water, Arianne wants chocolate, Miranda wants roses. Loras Tyrell wanted cocaine. That's how it was and that is how it's been for a long time."_

_Our source went on to claim that the supermodel "was evidently out of control, and that everyone knew it. It was starting to get to the point where he'd show up to set in such a state that designers could barely work with him. Anyone who knew him could see that it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. His health was suffering, his looks were suffering, he was an accident waiting to happen."_

25th February 2014

_Pictures emerge of Loras Tyrell allegedly taking cocaine at a private party in New York. [inset below] Uploaded anonymously to the internet this morning, the pictures show Tyrell with a credit card, appearing to arrange the class A drug into lines. The pictures will no doubt further damage the supermodel's already ruined reputation, having already been dropped by four major labels._

_Loras Tyrell has so far neither denied nor confirmed allegations of his cocaine use. The Mirror has approached him for comment._

26th February 2014

_Valentino vows to stand by Loras Tyrell. The model, who has featured in eleven Valentino Campaigns since the age of fourteen, is said to be keeping his contract with the Italian label. Dropped by both Chanel and Dior earlier this week, the development will likely be a welcome one for the 22-year-old._

_According to a spokesman for the company, however, the contract will be "suspended indefinitely" to allow the supermodel to "get back on his feet."_

_Pictured left in his original test shot for the Italian fashion house and right in a picture taken by paparazzi last week, it is clear to see that getting back on his feet may take some time._

The newspaper was spread across Renly's pillows and Renly tried to stop reading over Satin's shoulder as he shifted closer. It was a hard task seeing as it was very large picture of Loras that Satin was looking at, and Renly bit back a sigh, unable to control himself. Rolling onto his stomach to mirror Satin's posture, Renly leant his head against Satin's bare shoulder and let his eyes roam. The article in question was a generous two page spread, detailing the rise of Loras' career with Valentino. It had small pictures of all eleven advertising campaigns that he'd apparently featured in, but Renly found himself drawn painfully to the main feature- a Then and Now article that jumped out at him from the page. Loras was fourteen in the first picture, fresh faced, still brunette, and so innocent looking that Renly almost wouldn't have recognised him. The second picture was taken just a few weeks ago, and he actually _was_ unrecognisable in that one. Gaunt and tired, he was a far cry from how he'd been at fourteen.

"He was beautiful wasn't he?" Satin commented, fiddling with the edge of the page absent-mindedly. The rustling it made was almost painfully loud in Renly's silent bedroom. 

"Mm," Renly agreed reluctantly. As much as Loras did look sweet as a fourteen-year-old, he had no real desire to discuss Loras' good looks with Satin, not when they were lying side by side naked together in bed. And certainly not when Renly's body was still tingling gloriously from the sex they'd had little over an hour ago- some of the best sex Renly had ever had in his life if he was being completely honest with himself, and if he was willing to admit that a man over four years younger than him might be better at certain things than him. 

“What was it like to date him?”

Renly startled at Satin's question, bumping Satin's shoulder accidentally. Whilst he hadn't hidden the fact that it had been his ex-boyfriend he'd gone to the hospital for last week, he hadn't named said ex-boyfriend. He deliberately hadn't told anyone but Sansa about that and he'd rather been counting on Satin remaining blithely unaware of his links to Loras. Pushing his hands through his tangled hair wearily, he tried to laugh, but his laugh was half a sigh.

“So you know about that do you?” he asked, joining Satin in fiddling with the newspaper laid across the pillows. 

Satin gave a small smile, turning his head to kiss Renly on the lips. He tasted of Renly's toothpaste and of something sweet. “I might have put your name into Google after our second date,” he admitted. “You'd be surprised how many tabloid articles there are about you. And I’m not stupid, Renly. You told me you’d had to go and fetch one of your exs because he’d landed himself in hospital last week. I can put two and two together. I realised who you'd gone for.”

Renly laughed, feeling a little sheepish. “Fair point," he conceded. It seemed Sansa wasn't the only one then who insisted on stalking the people they were dating.

“So what was it like?” Satin smiled, “dating a celebrity, I mean?”

Renly paused.

"Odd..." he decided on eventually, thinking that accurate enough. “But I don’t want to talk about Loras." Pointedly, he pushed Satin over onto his back and rolled on top of him, the newspaper creasing between his curly head and the pillows. They'd had a lot of sex last night, for apparently Satin was a five date kind of guy, and Renly was very eager for more, seeing as all of it had been well past fantastic. Sex, he thought, was far more preferable to talking about exs. He'd been tired and gloriously satisfied when they'd finally collapsed back onto the bed to go to sleep, and yet in spite of that, Renly had lain awake for many hours afterwards, his thoughts many miles away despite his best efforts. He'd wondered where Loras was, if he was shut up at home or if he'd quietly checked into rehab as some publications had suggested. He'd wondered _how_ Loras was, but mainly he'd wondered whether Loras would be furiously jealous if he knew that Renly had spent the night shagging someone else, or if Loras had long accepted that fact.

It had ruined his night's sleep, and now, Renly wanted to waste no more time dwelling on things beyond his control, least of all Loras. Even now, he wished he'd thought to close the newspaper before rolling Satin over onto it. It was only a photo of Loras that was peeking out from underneath Satin's curls, flat and lifeless, nothing but paper and ink, but Renly felt like he was being watched all the same. More pertinently, he felt like he was being _judged_. Judged by a fourteen year old version of the boy who'd slept in this very bed a week and a half ago, a smiley fresh-faced version who still had dimples in his cheeks and a tiny dusting of freckles across his nose that had long faded.

It was a silly notion- that he could be watched by someone's picture in a newspaper, and defiantly, Renly smiled down at Satin, more than a little pleased with what he saw. With his curls fanned out against the pillow, inky black against the sheets, Satin was almost as beautiful as Loras had been. Resting his elbows either side of Satin's face, Renly nudged a knee between Satin's thighs, eager to let none of that beauty go to waste, not while it was in his bed at least. 

"You know what," he breathed, leaning down to brush his lips against Satin's neck. "I don't want to talk at all."

Satin smiled at that, tilting his head to the side to give Renly better access to his neck. "Hmm," he sighed, eyes creasing in mirth. "Tempting... but I think we need to."

"Need to what?" Renly murmured, too busy nuzzling Satin's collarbone to really listen. 

Satin laughed. "To talk."

Renly frowned, pausing mid-kiss. “About Loras Tyrell?” he clarified.

“No,” Satin smiled, and even though Renly couldn't see him, he imagined he was rolling his eyes fondly. “About me. About _us_."

Renly sighed, pausing his trail of kisses at the hollow at the base of Satin's throat. “Really?” he sighed, propping his head up on his hands. “Do we have to? I was rather hoping we could just stay in bed all morning. And shag. Repeatedly."

Satin gave him one of his coy smiles. “How about we talk and then we shag," he suggested. "If you still want to that is.” He didn't seem to mind having Renly's weight on top of him, and the newspaper rustling beneath him as he moved, he reached up to fiddle with Renly's hair. Curling it absent-mindedly into a coal-black spiral around his finger, it could have been his own hair he was playing with and oddly, Renly found that vaguely satisfying. He rather liked the way the strands of his and Satin's hair merged into one inky pool when they lay beside each other. 

“Fine,” Renly groaned. Reluctantly, he rolled off Satin, lying beside him and crumpling the newspaper further in the process. "What are we talking about then?"

Satin had rolled onto his side too now and he fixed Renly rather earnestly as he spoke. “It’s about my job," he said evenly.

Renly had forgotten about the job. He yawned lazily. “Is this where you confess that you’re working for MI6 then?” he laughed. He still liked to hold out some hope that Satin was a particularly sexy version of James Bond who was particularly good at blow jobs. 

Satin smiled, but it was tight and it didn't quite reach his eyes. “No, Renly. It’s not.”

“So what are you then?” Renly laughed. _Embarrassing_ , Satin had called his job if Renly remembered correctly. Yawning again, Renly wondered absent-mindedly what he could be. There was a whole host of embarrassing jobs, he reckoned. There were people who cleaned sewers, people who washed dishes. There were the men whose day's work consisted of riding around on a large green truck emptying bins. And worst of all perhaps, there were those who worked in McDonald's. Those were the people who came home at the end of the day smelling of chips and grease, who went to bed still dreaming of assembling Big Macs and Mcflurries. Frowning, Renly tried to picture Satin in an apron and one of those little caps McDonald's employees had to wear. He couldn't quite manage it.

Satin hadn't said anything yet, and when Renly glanced down at him, he was lying very still in Renly's arms, a thoughtful but rather distant look on his face.

Renly nudged him with a grin. "So...?" he prompted.

Satin sighed, a small puff of air that tickled Renly's cheek. "You probably won't like it, Renly."  
  
Renly shrugged. "Try me."

Satin gave him a long hard stare, as if he were examining Renly's expression. "I'm an escort, Renly," he said slowly.

He kept a straight face impressively well, and Renly laughed, feeling his smile stretch from ear to ear. “You’re pulling my leg?” he chuckled. He looked back at Satin and the smile slid from his face as soon as it had come. Satin's face was stonily serious.

"Oh," Renly whispered. "You weren't joking." Reeling, he ran his hands through his tangled hair again, not sure how to digest that information. He'd felt a little like Hugh Grant in Notting Hill with Loras, but now he felt rather more like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman- although Richard Gere at least had known it was a hooker he was falling for. Renly wasn't quite sure which one was preferable. Looking back at Satin, Renly found he merely felt rather numb. Frowning, he tried to associate the mild-mannered, almost shy boy beside him with someone who potentially had sex for money and he just couldn't do it. Satin had too much grace, too much elegance; he was far too _normal_. It simply wasn't possible. And yet Satin was still staring back at him with an expression of the utmost seriousness.

His thoughts still whirring incoherently around him, Renly had no choice but to fall back on his usual stand-by: laughter. "Well that explains a lot," he chuckled rather awkwardly. "You were very impressive last night. And this morning."

Satin smiled and reached out for Renly's hand. "That's great to know," he laughed quietly, large brown eyes boring into Renly's. "But how do you really feel about that? I won’t lie. Many of my previous partners were uncomfortable with it. I won't be offended if you are.”

Renly sighed, feeling a little cornered. Thought after thought was still running through his head and he was starting to feel a little ill, as if a rug had been sharply pulled out from underneath him and he'd hit the ground with a hard thump. He wondered now whether any of the people he dated would turn out to be what they said they were on the tin. He supposed though that a voluntary admission five dates in was a lot better than being caught red-handed seven months in. 

He took a deep breath. "To be honest," he sighed. "I don't really know how I feel about it." He paused. "I guess I'm glad you told me, but I mean, when you say you're an escort... do you actually sleep with your clients? Or am I assuming the worst here?"

Satin laughed, squeezing Renly's hand. "Well you're the first person I've dated who knows the difference between an escort and a prostitute." He smiled, and Renly wondered if he ought to tell him that the only reason for him knowing the difference was that he was a lawyer and both of those professions were governed by a lot of very ambiguous laws. Escorts, Renly knew, were technically paid for their time, and any sex that occurred during that time was said to arise from mutual consent rather than any notion of the escort being paid for it. The lines between being a hooker and an escort who granted sexual favours though were blurred at best, Renly had to think.

"So do you or don't you?" Renly asked. "Have sex with your clients, I mean?"

Satin gave him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Sometimes," he said quietly. "It depends really. Often, it’s just pretending to be a single woman’s date at weddings and work functions. With guys, it does tend to be more, but it depends on the time and the place, and on what’s been agreed beforehand.” He sighed. “I won’t lie, Renly. I don't see what I do as wrong. I’m not one of those people who view sex as particularly intimate. It can be, but it doesn't have to be."

Renly paused, contemplating that. He thought back to all the sex he’d had in his time. Most of it, he supposed, had indeed been pretty meaningless. If he was being honest with himself even, he supposed that each and every time he'd got laid throughout university had been completely and utterly meaningless. He’d had a fair bit of sex in his time, and yet he could count on the fingers of half a hand the number of men with whom sex had been even vaguely intimate. Loras, he supposed, was his only partner with whom the sex had been consistently intimate.

“I suppose I’d agree with you on the intimacy thing,” he said slowly. "I've never been one of those people who thinks sex has to be really special and intimate either."

Satin nodded. "I guess the crux of the matter, Renly, is that I don't see anything shameful about what I do. It's just sex. And nobody's forced me into it. I'm quite in control of everything that happens when I go out with someone for the evening."

"I'm sure," Renly sighed, looking down at his and Satin's intertwined fingers. In theory, he agreed. Contrary to what people often thought, prostitution wasn't actually illegal in the UK; what was illegal was running a brothel or gaining financially from other people prostituting themselves. Or hanging persistently around street corners causing a nuisance- that was illegal too. But paying for sex wasn't a crime, even if escorts did tend to claim that they were being paid for their time and not for the sex itself.

Satin smiled at his hesitance. “ _But…_ ”

“But I’d be lying if I told you I’d be one hundred percent comfortable with your job," Renly admitted. “I mean how would it work between us? Would you still see clients if we were together?”

Satin laughed, his curls bouncing around his face. The fact that Renly hadn't immediately turned round and said he wanted nothing to do with him had evidently reassured him. “Well that would depend on how serious things got," he said. "I don’t intend on being an escort forever." He paused, looking down too at their intertwined hand. "Actually, Renly, I’m saving to try and put myself through university. But yeah, ideally I’d like to keep working until then, unless you were adamantly against it."

Renly sighed deeply. “So we’d be talking an open relationship?” he clarified. He'd been in a few before; several really when he'd at uni, but at twenty-seven, he'd rather thought himself past all that. He supposed it was understandable though that Satin, at an enviously young twenty-two, wasn't. He remembered himself at twenty-two; he certainly hadn't been looking for anything vaguely serious back then. It had all been casual fun and summer flings. He'd just left uni and he'd suddenly had a salary- a salary which could be spent on cocktails and clothes, on enjoying himself. Reflecting on that now, he supposed he should have been more surprised at the time that he and Loras had got so serious, seeing as Loras had only been twenty one when they'd started dating.

“Yes.” Satin's voice brought Renly from his thoughts. “I suppose an open relationship would be what I'd want.” Smiling at Renly, his hands migrated to Renly's waist. "Maybe it's best if you think about it for a week or so. Mull it over."

"Mmm," Renly agreed wearily. "For now though, can we take up my earlier suggestion?" 

"And have sex repeatedly?" Satin laughed.

Smiling as Satin continued to laugh, Renly rolled Satin back over purposefully, the newspaper crumpling once more under his head. This time though, Renly pulled the pages out from underneath him. Loras' many faces were creased almost beyond recognition now, and yet all the same, Renly didn't want him watching this. Softly, he closed the newspaper and placed it on the bedside table before leaning down to kiss Satin again.


	32. Chapter 32

Renly had to groan at the look on Sansa’s face when he told her. Almost as shocked as she had been when Renly had confessed his involvement in Loras’ brief spell in hospital, her eyebrows had disappeared under her hair and she’d startled enough to upset the bowl of sugar cubes that the waitress had just brought. She righted it now, and once the porcelain bowl was respectable again, she merely stared at Renly, her head cocked to the side, as if she were waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Sighing, Renly toyed with one of the sugar cubes on the table, one of the ones that Sansa had deemed too dirty to put back in the bowl. He supposed he couldn't blame her for her dismay; he too had thought that Satin was joking. He put down the sugar cube and picked up his coffee mug. Fiddling with that now, he tried to wait as patiently as he could for her to work through the information that he'd given her.

It took a while, but eventually Sansa composed herself enough to speak. “No,” she breathed, shaking her head and following Renly’s lead in picking up her hot chocolate. “You told me he seemed so nice. So normal. You must have misunderstood. He can’t be an escort.”

Renly laughed; he had to admire her faith. “Nope,” he sighed, “definitely no misunderstanding. It's just my luck isn't it? I’ve had the crack addict, I’ve got the hooker. All I need now is to date a porn star or a Mafia gangster or something and then I’ll have completed the list of ‘people you should definitely avoid dating'." He grinned at her. "Perhaps I should be proud.”

Sansa eyed him rather suspiciously, swilling her hot chocolate in an attempt to cool it down. "How can you be so cheerful about this, Renly?” she asked, leaning over the table towards him. "You've just told me that the man you're really in to sleeps with people for money, and you're _okay_ with that?"

Renly shrugged, taking a gulp of coffee that was hot enough to burn the roof of his mouth off. "It's not _conventional_ , I'll grant you that."

"It's not conventional?" Sansa echoed his words back to him in disbelief. "But how is it possible for people like him to even _be_ in relationships? I mean he'd be sleeping with other people. He'd be cheating on you on a daily basis. How is that okay?"

Renly shrugged again. He hadn’t expected Sansa to understand. Her idea of a perfect relationship was one that led to a perfect wedding and several perfect children; quite why she was with Sandor Clegane thus remained a mystery to him.

"It's just sex,” he argued. “We wouldn't be exclusive, Sansa. And I’ve been in open relationships before. Does him being paid for it change anything?”

“Yes." Sansa set her mug back on her coaster with such force that the table shook. "It changes everything, Renly. Open relationships are one thing but he's essentially a prostitute. You can't be serious about this? It's ludicrous."

“But why?” Renly asked, to himself as much as to her, staring into his coffee contemplatively. “I mean really, if you think about it logically, the fact that he’s paid for sex makes an open relationship almost more viable, because it's strictly professional between him and his partners."

Sansa frowned. "I don't follow,” she admitted.

"Well there's no emotional aspect to it,” Renly explained. “Think about it. There’s two big reasons why open relationships tend to fail. The first one is jealousy, and the other is if one person falls for someone else that they're sleeping with.” He laughed. “And I'm certainly not going to be jealous of anyone desperate enough to resort to an escort, and he's certainly not going to fall for any of his clients."

“I guess...” Sansa agreed reluctantly, “But I have to say, Renly, even with the escort part aside, I wouldn’t be comfortable with any type of open relationship. Wouldn't you just be massively insecure all the time? I know you say you wouldn't be jealous of his clients, which kind of makes sense, but what if he sleeps with other people, people who aren't paying him? Wouldn't you be jealous then?”

Renly laughed, draining the last few drops of his drink. “I like to think I'd cope. I'm pretty confident that I'm more wonderful than anyone else he could possibly date." He grinned at her. "I mean where else would he find someone who's so handsome, and smart, and generous, and funny, witty even. I'm a catch, Sansa."

Sansa smiled, shaking her head. "God you're vain, Renly," she laughed.

Renly just grinned at her. "Guilty as charged," he chuckled. "In fact, I think Carly Simon might have written a song about me back in 1972."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "You weren't even born then."

"True," Renly admitted with a smile. "But my reputation obviously preceded me." He got the waitress’ attention and gestured for her to bring them both another drink. "And anyway back to open relationships. I know you think it wouldn't be for you, but it's quite common amongst gay men actually."

Sansa wrinkled her nose, evidently still rather bemused by the concept that anyone could possibly have a relationship without being exclusive. "Why is that?"

Renly shrugged. "I don't know actually," he admitted. He then laughed, winking at her. "Maybe us guys just like sex more?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Okay so it's not particularly uncommon," she relented. "But are they ever successful? That’s the real question here."

Renly shrugged. "I've had open relationships that have worked well enough. You just have to set very clear boundaries.”

Sansa looked sceptical. “Like what type of boundaries?” she asked.

“You know,” Renly laughed, “like no sex with mutual friends… having to use a condom with all your partners…. that sort of thing. One of the ones my exs used to insist on was no bragging about how good it was with somebody else, which definitely used to be a vice of mine.”

Sansa laughed. “Well it’s not my cup of tea, but it’s obviously up to you." She sighed. "What have you and Satin decided then?”

“Well for the moment we’re going to carry on as we have been, just going on dates and whatnot, and then in a fortnight or so, when I’ve had time to think about it, we’re going to re-evaluate. But I reckon we'll at least give it a try.”

Their drinks arrived then, and Sansa took hers gladly, wrapping her hands around the mug for warmth, for even in the coffee shop it was a little chilly. “You think he’s worth it then?” she asked.

“Mmm,” Renly agreed with a grin, doing the same with his own mug. “Well parts of me certainly do.”

Sansa blushed. “God Renly, you’re awful.”

“Aren’t I?” Renly laughed. He’d have liked to say that he was joking, but he thought that would be a lie. Satin was lovely, sweet and charming, but his skills between the sheets ranked just as highly on his list of attributes as anything else, Renly had to admit. It was shallow perhaps, and very superficial, but everyone had their vices. Robert’s was alcohol, Sansa’s was unsuitable men, Loras’ was cocaine, and his own, Renly thought with a smile, happened to be good sex. All in all, Renly reckoned, it was probably the least harmful of the lot.

They sat in silence after that, both of them listening to the soft pitter-patter of rain outside whilst Renly lost himself in his thoughts. He couldn’t help but wonder how Loras was getting on with his particular vice. Whilst there was still a fair few articles about Loras in the papers on any particular day, with Loras keeping his head down in such a determined fashion, he seemed to have disappeared off the radar a little. Loras’ PR team was obviously working in overdrive, Renly reckoned.

“Satin asked about Loras, you know,” he told Sansa quietly after a while, sipping his coffee and feeling the caffeine revive him a little.

Sansa smiled, turning her head from where she was staring out of the window to look at him. “He did? Was he impressed with your celebrity status?”

"He didn't say,” Renly chuckled, though personally, he hoped that Satin was a little impressed. “He said he was beautiful though, which he is- when he’s not half starved." Renly paused to grin at her. “He obviously approves of my taste."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Which isn't hard seeing as Satin looks more like Loras than..." She trailed off, obviously at a loss.

"Than what?" Renly grinned.

"Well, than Loras looks like himself right now,” she decided.

Renly shrugged. He didn't really agree that the resemblance was quite that strong, but he couldn't dispute that there was an element of truth to her words. If you saw Loras on the streets nowadays it would be easy to not to associate him with the famous supermodel. Likewise, if Satin dyed his hair blond and got the clothes right, he could easily try his hand at going as Loras to a fancy dress party.

"Well excuse me if I have a type," he laughed, rolling his eyes at her.

Sansa didn't laugh. She looked at him sternly. “Talking of Loras,” she said, “Have you made up your mind if you’re going to go and see him or not?”

Renly paused, cup half way to his lips. “I don’t know,” he groaned. If he was honest, Loras’ invitation had completely slipped his mind, what with everything that was going on with Satin. He hadn’t given any thought to it at all really.

Sansa was still looking at him, though. She obviously expected him to have given it some thought.

He sighed deeply. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I mean, you have to look at this from my perspective, Sansa. I spent half a year getting over him, and now I finally have, he just walks back into my life. We severed our ties a year ago, Sansa. I was kind of intending on keeping it like that.”

Sansa paused, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “I guess I understand your reasons, and I don’t think you should even think about getting involved with him again, but a little harsh not to at least visit don’t you think?”

Renly sighed. “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. To be honest, I didn’t think he would be keen on seeing me again either. He was so embarrassed about having to ask for my help, and unbelievably sullen once I told him I was seeing somebody else.” He ran a hand through his hair wearily. “But then he came out with that stuff about me being welcome to come visit when he was leaving. Who knows if he actually wants me to?”

Sansa frowned. “You think he was just being polite?”

Renly shrugged. “Possibly. I mean his family were there. He obviously didn’t want them to know that we’d barely spoken all night. And they were making him thank me for having him. He probably thought it was the thing to do.”

“So you won’t go?” Sansa clarified.

“I don’t know,” Renly groaned. “I mean I’d go if I thought he really wanted me to. He’s ill, I wouldn’t deny him that. But I don’t want to turn up and have him be all why-are-you-here on me.” It would be mortifying, Renly thought, turning up to that great white house and being told that Loras didn’t want to see him.

Sansa paused, thoughtful though. "I don't think he'd ever be like that,” she said softly. “I know there’s probably bitterness between you, but he cared a lot about you once. He wouldn’t embarrass you like that.”

"No..." Renly mused. "Probably not." Loras was many things, but he wasn’t cruel, Renly didn’t think. He’d probably at least try to act pleased to see him even if he wasn’t.

"So you'll go?"

"Maybe," Renly muttered.

 

* * *

 

 

As it happened, it was another week and a half before Renly decided to bite the bullet and make the journey to Highgarden. He’d have been lying if he said that he wasn’t apprehensive about going, but having mentioned it to Satin on one of their dates a few days ago and having been granted his approval, he felt he could put it off no longer.

It was bleak when he set off, rainy, like so many March days, and Renly had to put his windscreen wipers on within minutes of setting off, barely able to see through the rain that streamed down outside. He could tell even now that the going was going to be slow, as it always was in bad weather, and more than a few times, he had to wonder whether he’d made the right decision in coming. For all he knew, he was making the journey for nothing. Several tabloids had reported rumours that Loras had secretly checked into rehab, and whilst Renly was hopeful Loras’ family would tell him which one he’d gone to, he wasn’t particularly hopeful that he’d end up getting to see Loras. For one, there was no guarantee that the clinic would be anywhere near Highgarden, and even if it was, there would be visiting hours to abide by.

That decision was made now, though, and too late to turn back. Renly persevered through the wind and the rain.

He’d aimed to arrive just after lunchtime but it was well into the afternoon by the time that he came off the A2, Highgarden signposted in a rather dull brown as all places of interest were. It was narrow country lanes that he had to navigate after that, and Renly sorely wished that he’d thought to borrow someone’s sat-nav instead of having to pull in every now and again to consult his phone.

It was still raining when the white manor house came into view, majestic against the stormy sky behind it. As Renly turned onto its driveway, however, he met an unexpected obstacle. The beautiful white had been wide open when he’d last come, but today they were firmly closed, a large sign hanging from the elaborate wrought iron.

Sighing, Renly wound down his car window to get a closer look, ignoring the spray of the rain that that let in. _Tours currently suspended until further notice_ , it read, _please contact the gamekeeper for entry._ That didn’t sound promising, but there was an intercom button below it and so Renly pressed it, a little disheartened.

“Hello, Tarly speaking,” came a plummy voice, and Renly recognized the rather abrupt man he’d spoken to the last time he’d come. “Gamekeeper at Highgarden. How can I help?”

“Hi,” Renly said. “I’m here to see L-“

“I’m afraid Loras is not currently at home, sir,” came the sharp reply. “I wish you a good day.”

“Wait,” Renly protested. “Then let me speak to the family. My name’s Renly Baratheon. They should be expecting me.” That was greatly stretching the truth, Renly thought, but he’d come too far to be turned away at the gate by a curt bastard of a man.

There was a long pause before the intercom crackled again. “As you were, sir,” came the response.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Renly watched as the gate slowly opened on its automatic hinges. Sure that there was a camera trained on him somewhere, he was tempted to put his finger up at the less-than-helpful gamekeeper, and yet he forced himself to resist. There was still time, he thought, for him to get chucked out.

The gardens were less breathtaking than they had been the last time he’d come, but seeing as it was early March, Renly was still rather impressed. Either side of the driveway was all but carpeted in snowdrops, their white petals laden with water. It was a pretty effect, as if there had been snow, and Renly wished that he’d be able to come one day under more pleasant circumstances.

As he progressed up the drive, Renly was relieved to see somebody standing outside the house waiting for him, and as he got closer, he was even more pleased to recognise Garlan, his already wild curly hair even more wild in the wind. He had neither an umbrella nor a raincoat, and yet he seemed entirely unfazed by the pouring rain. He stood cheerfully out in the open, smiling at Renly as he parked outside the house.

"It's nice to see you again," he laughed, a great boom of a laugh that was quite different from any sound Loras could have made.

"You too," Renly smiled, getting out of the car and following Garlan towards the shelter of the porch.

“I’m guessing you’re after Loras,” Garlan said, leading Renly inside. Like last time, they entered through a side door to the family’s private quarters rather than using the grand main doors.

“Yeah,” Renly sighed. “Well Loras asked me to visit him, and I didn't really know where he was. But I imagined you guys would."

"Sure we do," Garlan grinned, giving Renly a hefty pat on the shoulder. "He's in his bedroom."

"Oh," Renly startled, turning around to face him. "I thought..."

"That he'd gone to rehab?" Garlan supplied helpfully. He laughed when Renly nodded. "I'd like to see you make my little brother check into rehab. It's like trying to get an angry wildcat into a cage two sizes too small."

Renly cringed. "Er well I can sympathise. I've been there and done that."

Garlan grinned. "Well good to know that we're not alone in our failure." He rolled up his sleeve to show a very impressive bruise on a very impressive bicep. "This was my last battle scar. Who'd have thought that such a tiny thing packs such a punch when you're trying to force him into car that's destined for any kind of medical facility? You should have seen the fuss he kicked up. It would have to be seen to be believed."

Renly laughed. "That bad huh?" It didn’t surprise him.

"You have no idea..." Garlan chuckled, leading him through the hallway. "My brother's always been a violent thing. If our parent's hadn't been so rich he'd have been chucked out of school a thousand times over. If anyone insulted him, they'd end up black and blue. If anyone told a teacher on him, they'd end up black and blue too. And if anyone _dared_ to pull Margaery's hair, they'd end up unconscious. That's just what Loras is like. He wouldn't know gentleness if it jumped up and bit him on the arse."

Renly laughed, shaking his head a little fondly. Part of him wanted to disagree and inform Garlan that Loras could border on being gentle when he really wanted to, but he refrained. As an ex-boyfriend, he didn't think it really his place now.

"So can I see him?" Renly asked.

"Sure, course you can,” Garlan said with a smile. He winked at him. “He might not even lock you out. I reckon he's a lot more fond of you than he is of me and Willas."

Renly laughed a little awkwardly. A slightly uncomfortable silence followed in which Renly shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Leaning heavily against the kitchen table though, Garlan was apparently oblivious to it.

"Um, about Loras," Renly asked, once it was clear Garlan was going to do nothing but smile at him. "Is he all right?"

Garlan sighed, pushing his curls off his face. "No," he said quietly. "He's not. He's... well he's struggling. Let's put it like that. He has good days and he has bad days."

“And today?” Renly asked, crossing his fingers. He hoped to god that it would be a good day. He knew best of all how unpleasant Loras could be when he wanted to be.”

“Er, yet to be evaluated,” Garlan told him. “He hasn’t ventured out today so I haven’t seen him. He did slam the door on Willas earlier, and Mum said he was agitated this morning, but to be honest, he’s always like that nowadays. Personally, I reckon it’ll be a good day.”

“Why?” Renly frowned. From what Garlan said, Renly didn’t think it sounded like a good day.

“Because you’re here. That makes it different from all the rest of the days.”

They'd walked into the kitchen by now and they were met by a very attractive woman who Renly guessed to be Loras' mother. Her face was incredibly youthful- she must have going on fifty although she looked ten years younger, and yet her hair was entirely silver. Oddly, it suited her, falling down her back in a shimmering waterfall. She appeared to be baking something, a brightly coloured mixing bowl in front of her. She had a cheerful sort of face, like all mothers should have, and as Renly looked at her, he couldn’t help wondering if his mother had been anything like her.

She smiled at Renly when she saw him, and Renly bent so that they could bump cheeks.

“You must be Renly,” she said, putting down her mixing spoon. "It’s so nice of you to come. Loras will be ever so excited to have a visitor.”

“You think?” Renly laughed. He personally had his doubts.

“Of course he will,” his mother smiled. “He’s ever so bored. He doesn’t get up to much nowadays. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you.”

Renly smiled at her. He still had his doubts.

“I can show you to his room if you’d like?”

“Sure,” Renly agreed. “That would be great.” He felt a little apprehensive as Loras’ mother led him up the stairs, but he forced himself to keep the smile glued on his face. He didn’t want Loras’ mother after all to know that he was apprehensive about seeing her son.

Eventually, they reached the door that must have been their destination, for Loras’ mother knocked on it. “Loras,” she called gently. “There’s someone to see you,”

“Go away,” came Loras’ voice through the door. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

Renly gulped, biting back a sigh. Loras’ response didn’t exactly reassure him that he’d been right in coming. He glanced anxiously at Loras’ mother, wondering if they’d just go back down the stairs and leave Loras in peace like he evidently wanted to be.

Loras’ mother managed a small smile though. “I suggest you just go in,” she told him. “You’re his first visitor, he’s probably just shy.”

Part of Renly wanted to politely decline and inform Loras’ mother that there was nothing shy about her son. He couldn’t help though but linger on Loras’ mother’s words. He wasn’t surprised- he’d seen in London that Loras didn’t really have any friends, but he was sad all the same to learn that he was Loras’ first visitor. What would be Loras’ only visitor perhaps.

With that in mind, Renly gathered his courage and pushed open the door.

What struck him first was that Loras' bedroom probably hadn’t changed in years; it looked distinctly like it belonged to a fifteen-year-old. The curtains were shut despite it being afternoon and several dog-eared posters lined the walls, one of which was of a female model. She was in very few clothes, and whilst Renly supposed that its presence could be explained by Loras' admiration of that particular model’s work, he imagined that it had very little to do with that. Rather, Renly reckoned, it spoke volumes about a teenager who hadn’t really understood yet why he wasn't like the other boys at school.

There was only a single bed in the room, and it was possible to make out Loras’ thin frame under the duvet. He was turned away from Renly, facing the wall with a pillow pulled over his head.

"I said go away, Mum," he mumbled.

Renly raised an eyebrow. "Loras?" he ventured.

Loras whipped around. “Oh it’s you,” he said quietly.

Renly nodded and tried not to stare. He didn’t want to be mean, but if he was being honest, Loras looked even worse than he had three weeks ago. The dark circles had been rather pronounced even then, but now they were now a deep purple, as if someone had given him two black eyes. It didn’t look like Loras had shaved for three weeks either, Renly thought with some surprise. It had been rare indeed that Renly had ever seen Loras with stubble, mainly because it took him so long to grow any, but he had some now. It didn’t suit him at all, Renly had to think. Patchy in places, it clashed terribly with his hair. For aside from his roots, which were distinctly brown now and badly needed touching up, his curls were still a parched sunny blond, far far lighter than his sad excuse for stubble was.

He looked terrible, and Renly couldn’t help but feel a little disconcerted to see that he’d let himself go so much. It had been bewildering to see him looking so unwell three weeks ago, but even then he’d been at least clean shaven and his hair had been freshly washed.

He was an absolute state, and Loras must have known this best of all. He seemed uncomfortable under Renly’s gaze, as if he rather wanted the bed to open up and swallow him.

Renly sighed deeply. “Do you not want to see me?” he asked tentatively, seeing as Loras had yet to say anything.

Loras shifted awkwardly, fiddling with his sheets. “No, it’s not that.”

“What is it then?” Renly laughed.

Loras’ forehead furrowed and he pushed his unwashed curls off his face. “Well I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he admitted quietly.

Renly almost told him he looked fine but even he couldn’t voice it. Even he wasn’t that good at lying. “I came to see how you are, Loras,” he settled for instead. “I don’t care what you look like.”

“Yes but I do,” Loras protested.

Renly smiled. Oddly, that reassured him a little. “Of course you do,” he sighed a little fondly. “Shall I come back another time then? When you’re feeling a little more up to visitors?”

Loras shook his head weakly. “That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly. “You’re here now, and you’ve only just arrived. Stay.” He did his best to sit up, just about managing it. “Just give me ten minutes or so to have a shower.”

“Sure,” Renly told him gently. “Whatever you like, Loras. I’ll go wait for you downstairs.” Shutting the door quietly behind him, he left Loras to desperately tidy himself up.


	33. Chapter 33

Personally, Renly had his doubts about Loras' ability to get himself up and dressed in ten minutes, but he said nothing, merely heading downstairs as he'd promised Loras he would. Pausing on the top step though, he was pleased to hear shuffling from inside Loras' room, accompanied soon after by the sound of a door opening and closing. Loras had evidently managed to get out of bed by himself, which was promising Renly had to think, considering that three weeks ago Loras hadn't even had the strength to pull himself out of the bath. Still paused on the stairs, Renly smiled to himself before continuing on down. 

Loras’ mother had evidently put her cake in the oven as it was the smell of chocolate that guided Renly down to the kitchen, filling his senses and making him slightly hungry. She was nowhere to be seen though when Renly reached the source of the smell, her apron now hanging on the back of the kitchen door. Only Garlan remained of the two of them, sitting now at the table with another man who, judging from his curly hair, must have been the other of Loras' brothers. They were playing chess, a black and white board lying between them that was set with ornate wooden pieces. It was very clear that Garlan was losing. 

They seemed quite immersed in their game, and Renly paused in the doorway, feeling a little like he was intruding. As hospitable as the Tyrell family were, Renly couldn't help but feel that his presence in their home was a little odd. It would have been different if he and Loras had still been dating; it would have been rather normal then that they try to treat him as one of the family. But as it was, Renly didn't know where he stood. He was Loras' ex, and by definition that meant it was awkward.

It was only after Garlan had lost both of his bishops in a row that they noticed him and both of them raised their curly heads in unison.

“Renly,” Garlan laughed, pulling a chair out beside him and gesturing for Renly to sit down with them. “Perfect timing. Now I get to put off Willas taking my queen." He looked Renly up and down. "Please don’t tell me our brother rejected you too?”

Renly smiled, taking the seat he was offered. "Nah," he chuckled. “He’s just getting showered and dressed.”

“Right...” Garlan grinned, “Well that'll be another three weeks you’re waiting for him then. He takes ages to get ready on a normal day, let alone when he hasn't taken a shower in like five years." The other brother made a face at that, as if he thought Garlan was being unfair perhaps, and Garlan seemed suddenly to remember his manners. "Excuse my rudeness," he laughed. "We haven't even done introductions. Renly this is Willas, Willas this is Renly.”

Willas held out his hand and Renly shook it. He too shared the family resemblance, and Renly thought that he perhaps looked even more like Loras than Garlan did. Whereas Garlan was broad, burly almost, Willas seemed built along the same lines as the youngest of his brothers. Tall and slim, he was like a slightly less handsome copy of Loras, his face less striking but softer somehow, kindness in his eyes instead of haughtiness. Studying him, Renly wondered if he was seeing what Loras might look like in ten years.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he told Renly with a smile. “And it’s really kind of you to have come and visit. How was Loras when you saw him?”

Renly sighed. "Not too bad I suppose," he lied. "He wasn't very nice to your mother though."

Garlan laughed, running a hand through curls that didn't look like they'd seen a brush in days. "Don't be fooled by all that," he grinned. "He can be a moody bastard nowadays, but he loves our mother really. Wouldn't cope without her." He dropped his voice as if he were confiding a secret to Renly. "Never let on to Loras that you know, but she spends most nights now in there with him. She has this little camp bed so that she'll be right there if he needs her."

Renly frowned, surprised Loras' pride would ever allow that. "Why would he need her?"

It was Garlan that he asked but Willas who answered. "Because he doesn't sleep," he sighed softly. "And when he does, he has terrible nightmares.”

“And even haughty old Loras needs his mother when it's dark and he wakes up terrified," Garlan laughed.

Willas nudged him, shaking his head fondly. "Be kind," he reprimanded. "You know how he hates being made fun of."

Garlan just rolled his eyes and laughed. "Lighten up, Willas," he insisted. "Me and Loras have always teased the shit out of each other. _Normality_ , the doctor said. Poor Loras would think something was wrong if I suddenly started being _nice_ to him."

Renly had to smile at that. He liked to think that the jibes thrown around between Garlan and Loras were more good-natured than the insults that he and Stannis exchanged. He wasn't, however, pleased to hear that Loras still wasn't sleeping. He wasn't surprised; Loras been a self confessed insomniac even when they'd been together, but he had hoped that once Loras was back at home and not constantly travelling that that might improve. It appeared he was to be disappointed, and Renly's chest felt a little tight to think of Loras alone in his bedroom, or having to rely on his mother to sit up with him. Odd as it was to think about now, it would have been an entirely different story if they'd still been together, Renly thought. He'd have sat up with Loras as much as he'd needed to, and maybe Loras might have been reassured to have someone beside him all night every night. That possibility was long gone though, Renly supposed, and all he could do now was be supportive from a distance.

"What does he have nightmares about?" he sighed.

A wide smile came to Garlan's face. "I've no idea," he grinned, winking at Renly. "But I like to think that lots of pink elephants are involved."

Renly laughed, but Willas rolled his eyes. "You're incorrigible, Garlan," he said with a small fond smile. "You deserve that bruise Loras gave you." He turned to Renly. “The nightmares are apparently a withdrawal side-effect."

"And that's normal?" Renly asked.

"According to the doctor it's normal," Willas told him. "But it's still not pleasant for him. It's got to the point now where he's wary about going to sleep, and considering the issues he had sleeping already... " he trailed off, "-well let's just say he's very tired. Which is why he's so difficult, I guess.”

Renly nodded. "So what did the doctor say?"

Willas sighed. "Well we had one come to make a home visit, and he said the obvious really, that Loras was malnourished and sleep deprived, and that he really needed to get himself clean. He recommended a few clinics that he said were good, but Loras put up such a fuss that eventually the doctor said it wasn't worth getting him so worked up." He picked up one of the chess pieces contemplatively." So we told Loras that he could stay at home if he agreed to co-operate, and to be fair, he's been quite good. He has days when the cravings are bad and he's impossible to make see sense, but on the whole he's trying."

That reassured Renly a little, "So he's doing quite well?" he asked.

Garlan snorted. "Well he doesn't have much choice in the matter. Our father's decided that he's not leaving here until he's better and so that's how it's going to be. Nobody comes in, apart from Margaery on the days when she doesn't have essays to write, and he's certainly not allowed out."

Renly winced. "I bet he loves that..."

Garlan laughed. "Yeah..." he agreed. "He resents being shut up quite a bit. A lot actually. But even he concedes that he'd rather be shut up here than in some clinic. And it's the best thing for him. He's safe here, and we've stolen his phone and disconnected the router for the wifi. That way he can recover without reading all the less-than-flattering stuff that people are writing about him."

Renly gave a small sigh, gazing absent-mindedly at the long abandoned chess board as Willas continued to fiddle with one of the pieces. He agreed with Garlan on that one. Loras, he thought, would have been painfully embarrassed if he'd had the misfortune to read much of what journalists were writing about him. His looks were being torn apart, as was his recent behaviour, and on several websites Renly had seen that humiliating incident with the DJ in New York dug up again. Needless to say, Renly had never stooped so low as to read any of them.

"But yeah he's doing all right," Willas said softly. "There's not really any physical symptoms for cocaine withdrawal, so there's not really much a doctor can do for him. He's being given something for his anxiety which the doctor says is essential, and we've agreed on an anti-depressant that Loras doesn't want to take at the moment but will be there if he wants it. Apart from that though it's just a matter of time really, and trying to get him to sleep."

"Can't the doctor do anything for the sleeping?" Renly asked.

Garlan shrugged. "We've tried sleeping tablets but they did fuck all. And to be honest, Loras is pretty reluctant to take anything much. He says that it would just be replacing one substance with another and that he doesn't want to be reliant on sleeping tablets or anti-depressants either." Garlan gave a wry smile. "He's a stubborn one is Loras, but it's his ch-"

Garlan was cut off by a sharp nudge from Willas, and Renly glanced up to see the kitchen door being pushed open. Loras' ten minutes had turned more into twenty five but Renly had to admit that he looked a lot more presentable now as he stepped through the doorway. He'd evidently showered, for his hair was wet but clean, and he'd most definitely had a shave. He'd done a little bit of a haphazard job, Renly thought, having missed a little of the stubble on his neck, but it was a definite improvement. He was out of his pyjamas at least, and whilst he hadn't been able to do anything about the dark circles under his eyes, he was even smiling.

“Well look who it is?” Garlan laughed, standing up to ruffle Loras' hair. “What time do you call this?”

Rolling his eyes, Loras shied away from Garlan's hand, and Renly watched as Willas shot Garlan a look. It was clear to Renly that Willas was probably a lot more patient with Loras. Indeed, despite the tale of Loras shutting the door on him, he seemed to gravitate towards Willas, standing behind Willas' chair as if it might protect him from Garlan trying to ruffle his hair again.

“Sleep better today?” Willas asked, twisting on his chair to look at him.

Loras shrugged. “Not really.” 

"Well maybe tomorrow," Willas said gently.

"Maybe." Loras didn't seem convinced and he pushed his hair out of his eyes a little irritably. He turned to Renly. "I'll show you around if you'd like that?"

Renly smiled. "I'd love that," he said. "But I don't want you to over-exert yourself? You're supposed to be resting aren't you?”

Loras scowled at him and Renly quickly shut his mouth. That, he thought, was a rookie error, an inexcusable one that was bound to get under Loras' skin, and Renly cursed himself for having forgotten how to manage Loras without ruffling any feathers. Ignoring Garlan and Willas' knowing smiles, he got up out of his chair and followed Loras meekly into the hall.

“Good luck,” he heard Garlan hiss behind him. “Remember to duck if he swings.”

Loras rolled his eyes at that, slamming the door to the kitchen behind him. "He had it coming," he muttered under his breath, whether to himself or to Renly though, Renly wasn't sure. He wasn't fooled though by Loras' apparent irritability towards the younger of his two older brothers. He'd heard Loras speak fondly of Garlan too many times to count during their relationship, as whilst Margaery was evidently Loras' favourite, he very evidently had a soft spot for all his siblings.

It was evidently outside that Loras wanted to take him, for Loras grabbed a coat from the one of the many hooks beside the back door, and Renly was just following suit when a voice came ringing sharply from a room off the hall that Renly had yet to go in.

“Loras,” the voice called.

Loras ignored it, shrugging his arms into the sleeves of his coat and making a beeline for the door. He'd just grasped the handle though when it called again. Screwing up his face, Loras visibly bit back a sigh. "Yes Grandmother?” he asked stiffly, a small scowl coming to his face.

“Have you put on your coat?”

“Yes Grandmother.”

“And a scarf?”

"No Grandmother," Loras admitted. He went back to the line of hooks by the door and pulled a woolly grey scarf off one, winding it around his neck. “Come on Renly,” he muttered, dropping his voice. “Let’s go before she makes me wear a stupid hat.”

“I heard that.” The door creaked open and the old lady who’d come to collect Loras appeared in the doorway. Very tiny, she was still an intimidating sight, and if Renly had been Loras, he reckoned he'd have obeyed her without a fuss and simply put on the hat. Pursing her lips, she looked rather sternly at Loras. “What did the doctor say about going outside, Loras?”

“That I have to wear a hat,” Loras mumbled, not meeting her eye. He made no effort to put one on though, and leaning heavily on her stick, the little old lady crossed the hall and selected one out of a wicker basket that sat next to the door. The one she chose was green, woollen, with a yellow bobble on top, she evidently intending to put it on Loras herself, she bade him bend. When Loras refused, she merely raised a wispy grey eyebrow and gave Loras a jab with her walking stick. Loras consented to bend then, and Renly watched with amusement as the old lady arranged it carefully over Loras’ ears.

Loras bore it all with very poor grace, and Renly had to smile at the sight of him. He looked quite sweet in the hat his grandmother had chosen, and it did him the favour of hiding his roots, but even Renly had to admit that he looked a far cry from the usual polished image he'd used to give off. His grandmother didn’t stop there though, and by the time she had finished, Loras didn’t look rake thin anymore, but rather well-rounded, like a chubby child dressed up for winter. His gaunt face peeking out from between the scarf and the hat was the only clue to his frail frame.

“Can we go now?” Loras muttered, and Renly had to grin, so reminded was he of how Simba and Nala sounded in the Lion King when they were trying to convince their mothers that they be allowed to go to the water hole.

Loras’ grandmother fixed him sternly, her eyes surprisingly sharp despite her old age. “Yes," she said, "but take an umbrella and don’t stay out too long. Or you'll have me to answer to." She turned to Renly. “Now you look after him.”

“I’ll try,” Renly laughed, determined not to be intimidated by her. He then followed as Loras grabbed the first umbrella he found and led him outside.

The air was cool outside, an icy wind whipping at their faces as they stepped outside, but Renly was glad to see that the rain at least seemed to have eased up. Whether it would stay like that though, he wouldn't have liked to say. Black clouds loomed above their heads, the threat of rain very imminent, and Renly was a little glad that Loras' grandmother had insisted he take an umbrella.

The gravel crunched loudly underneath their feet as they walked down the path and Renly rather regretted having come once more. Alone now with Loras, with nothing but the silence of the countryside for company, he found he had no idea what to say to him.

“So," he started lamely, looking down idly at his shoes. "What have you been up to?”

Loras took a while to answer. “You know," he said after a while. "Catching up with stuff." He didn’t mention the fact that he’d had no visitors and Renly didn't blame him. "What about you?" he asked.

“The usual,” Renly laughed. “Work, eat, sleep. That sort of thing.” He decided not to mention anything to do with Satin and Loras seemed grateful for it, giving him a little smile before he took them through a wrought iron gate.

“So this is our private bit of the gardens,” Loras explained, “The main gardens and the maze are up front but there’s nothing much to see in March." He paused, "There's nothing much to see _here_ actually in March." He kicked at the wet grass with his shoe. "I guess I just wanted to get out of the house really."

"I can understand that," Renly told him. He wasn't lying. Loras obviously got on well with his family, but it didn't change the fact that he was cooped up against his will. For all Loras had become, he still evidently valued his independence; he was just that type of person- the sort that couldn't be told anything and had to decide it for himself. "And anyway," Renly added, "It's nice here. I'm glad you brought me."

Loras gave his small smile  again and beckoned Renly round a corner to where an ornate fountain had been built amongst the foliage. It wasn't currently flowing but it was beautiful all the same, roses engraved into the marble. Behind it stood a wooden summerhouse that had ivy trained up the side, equally as pretty. What really caught his eye though was the view. There were no trees here and Renly could see for miles across the countryside.

The fields behind us are all for the horses," Loras explained, walking up to the fence and leaning against it. "They're all over there, by the pond."

Renly leant against the fence too, looking out over the horses Loras had just pointed out to him. He knew nothing about horses but he could admire their beauty. Sleek and graceful, they were certainly impressive animals. He counted six, and decided that his favourite was an elegant black one that he thought he'd look marvellous on. 

"Your brother Willas breeds race horses doesn’t he?” he asked.

“Not just race horses. All sorts of horses,” Loras told him, shifting so that the wind wasn't in his face. “He has a lot of help obviously because his mobility’s not too good. But he does a really good job. We have some really good horses here."

Renly nodded. The animals he could see certainly looked beautiful but he wouldn't know a good horse from a bad one. "Can Willas ride himself?" he asked. Willas had been sitting down when Renly had seen him and he hadn't been able to see his leg, but he'd been told that he could barely walk unaided.

"Yeah," Loras said, "He can. Not professionally any more but he can." He laughed wistfully, adjusting his woolly hat. "He can get around a lot better on a horse than he can on his own two legs actually. He hasn't much use of his right leg anymore, but horses are smart, they learn what you teach them, and Willas has his own horse." He sighed. "It's a sweet creature really, puts up really well with Willas' leg, but it sure is ugly."

Renly laughed. He'd never had any real desire to get on a horse but he imagined that if he did, he'd want it to be an attractive animal at least. "Couldn't he have trained a nice looking one?" he asked.

Loras shrugged. "Possible I guess, but the pure breeds, which tend to be the attractive ones, tend also to be flighty. They spook. They're difficult and they'd probably be very unnerved by how unbalanced Willas' riding has to be now." He made a face. "What he's got is what's called a cold-blooded horse- things that were bred originally to pull ploughs and carriages. The sort of hardy thing that could survive a snowstorm and you could probably drive a tank at."

Renly had to chuckle at Loras' tone. "I take it you're not a fan then?"

"No," Loras snorted. "You'd have to pay me to ride such a common animal."

Renly rolled his eyes. He'd had a very wealthy upbringing himself, gone to very good schools, and had been given a job at the family business straight out of uni so he could hardly call Loras out on being posh, but he did have to laugh at how pretentious Loras sounded. He wondered idly what Satin would have thought if he'd been here. Coming from a distinctly working class background, from a very rough estate apparently, Satin would have probably been baffled by Loras' talk of horses.

It was raining harder now, and glancing up at the sky, Renly had to frown. Black and stormy, he thought that the rain would only get harder. Loras seemed to recognise this too, for he unglued himself from the fence, looking too up at the dismal sky and unfurling his umbrella.

"We should go back inside," Renly suggested, moving closer to Loras so that he could get under the umbrella too. It offered little protection from the rain, but Renly supposed it was better than nothing.

Loras scowled. "Not yet," he said. He yanked on Renly's wrist and pulled him quickly towards the summerhouse. "We can go in here instead. It's waterproof enough." Pulling Renly along with quite some speed, he pulled the door open with more force than Renly would have thought he'd have, and Renly followed him in. The summerhouse was nice inside, obviously used for sitting in during fine weather. There were plump chairs with floral cushions everywhere and Renly could imagine the Tyrells taking afternoon tea here in the summer, the pretty chairs all with matching curly-haired occupants.

Sinking down into the nearest of those floral chairs, Renly brushed some of the rain off his coat. As Loras had said, the summerhouse seemed waterproof enough, the rain merely hammering against the roof before running harmlessly off the sloping sides. It made quite a din and Renly found it somehow soothing, a promise somehow that he wouldn't have to sit alone with Loras in complete silence.

He was brought from his thoughts by Loras sitting down beside him, and turning to face him, Renly was surprised to see that he was slightly red in the face and very out of breath. Their short flight out of the rain had obviously worn him out, sleep-deprived as he apparently was. He'd had enough energy though to rip off the woolly hat that his grandmother had insisted he wear, and Renly smiled to see it on the floor, evidently discarded with some disdain.

“You all right Loras?” Renly asked, daring to risk his wrath.

Loras nodded, still catching his breath. "I'm fine," he panted.

Renly paused, summoning up a little courage. "And more generally?" he asked tentatively. "How are you coping?"

For a moment, Loras looked as though he was going to take offence at the question, and then he sighed, turning slightly to watch the rain streaming down the window. It was only when he had his back to Renly that he answered, safe in the knowledge perhaps that his face or his expression was shielded from view. "Yeah, all right," he said quietly, as if he were speaking to the wall rather then Renly. "Not too bad I suppose."

Renly chanced a small smile. "You don't sound very sure?" He placed a gentle hand on Loras' arm.

Loras shrugged, turning back round to face him. "I don't know," he sighed wearily, running a hand through his hair. "I mean I’m twenty two and I’m living at home. I’m not allowed to go out, not that I'd really have anywhere to go if I was. This isn't really where I envisioned myself at twenty two, Ren.”

Renly tightened his grip on Loras' arm, the most reassurance he felt able to give him. “Where did you envision yourself?” he asked.

Loras shrugged again. “Somewhere else,” he said weakly. “As someone else.”

He sounded so defeated that Renly felt his chest tighten painfully. He reached out with a hand, touching one of Loras' still damp curls briefly. “Cheer up,” he said gently, “Things will improve, I promise. Your family are going to look after you until you get better, and then you'll be free to go wherever you want again.” He smiled. "The world will be your oyster, Loras."

Loras nodded. “Yeah,” he said, "That's what my counsellor says too. Well not the bit about the oyster, but the rest of it."

Renly paused, more than a little surprised. Of all things he'd have expected to hear come out of Loras' mouth, that would never have been one of them. "Your brothers didn't tell me you were seeing a counsellor?"

Loras shrugged, looking down at his shoes. "Yeah well I'm a bit embarrassed about it. I didn't really want people to know."

Renly could understand that. Loras, he knew, was a very private person. "That's silly," Renly told him anyway. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's really great that you're seeing someone, Loras."

"Suppose," Loras muttered. He kicked irritably at the green woollen hat on the floor. "I don't really like talking to her though. I wish she'd just leave me alone."

"You've got a woman?"

"Yeah," Loras said, "I didn't want a man. Would be weird." He scowled. "It's a weird concept anyway. Who in their right mind wants to talk to some randomer about stuff? It was something I never understood while I was in America. They seem to see therapists for bloody everything. It's weird." He grimaced. "But it would be even weirder with a man."

Renly paused, contemplating that for a moment. His first thought would have been that people of the same gender would understand each other better, but then he too thought about the prospect of sitting down with a man. He was surprised to find that it made him feel a little odd, especially somehow if that man were straight. Though it was a great generalisation, he supposed feelings and emotions tended to be a woman's domain. Loras, he imagined, would feel emasculated somehow if he were encouraged to pour out his feelings and problems to another man. He could understand why the prospect made Loras baulk, and thinking about it, he thought he'd have chosen a female counsellor too if he'd been in Loras' place, or at least tried to get a gay man.

"What do you talk about?" Renly asked.

Loras shrugged. "Not much," he said. "Usually she just asks me questions and I don't really say much back. But the doctor insists I persevere, so we meet every other day and I pay through the nose for sitting in silence and being made to talk about things I don't want to talk about."

“Do you talk about me?” The question was out of Renly's mouth before he could help himself. Indeed, Loras seemed taken aback and Renly cursed himself inwardly for being a vain fool. "Sorry," he murmured. "That was really stupid. You don't have to answer that."

Loras frowned. "No it's all right," he said, shrugging. "I don't mind. Yeah, I suppose we do talk about you sometimes. Not really often, but sometimes." He paused, twirling one of his curls around his fingers. "She thinks actually that it would do me good to give you an explanation.”

“An explanation of what?” Renly laughed.

Loras sighed. "The explanation I should have given you when we started dating, I guess. Or at least all the stuff I should have told you when you found me out.” He stopped there, and although Renly waited patiently, he didn't seem in the mood to say any more.

“And do you want to do that?” Renly pressed gently.

Loras shrugged. “I don’t know. Do _you_ want me to?"

Renly paused awkwardly. He hadn't been expecting to be asked that. Oddly, he wasn't sure. If he'd been asked that question when they'd still been together, he'd knew he'd have been desperate to hear any kind of explanation Loras might have deigned to give him. Whether he was still desperate to hear it now though... he wasn't quite sure. He was curious, he couldn't deny that. But in some ways, he had no desire to dwell on it all now, no real inclination to dig up the past. Not when he'd be left wondering how things might have been different if Loras had talked to him about it when he'd actually _needed_ him to.

"Your choice," he said firmly.

Loras let out a small sigh. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that." He ran his hands through his hair wearily.

"So what's it going to be?" Renly asked quietly, putting his hand back on Loras' arm.

Loras shrugged. "I don't know," he muttered. He didn't look happy, and Renly knew it was probably a difficult decision for him to make. Loras, he knew, didn't best enjoy talking about anything vaguely intimate. 

"Well take all the time you want to decide," Renly told him. "I'm not going anywhere."

That brought a very tiny smile to Loras' face, and yet he said nothing. Sighing, he merely returned to staring out of the window, watching the battle between the rain and the glass panes. His face was turned away from Renly, and whilst Renly tried his best to work out out what he was thinking, he could garner nothing from staring at the back of Loras' curly head. Left in the dark, Renly found himself gripped by the sudden urge to reach out and touch one of those curls, to ruffle them little and wind one round his finger, if only perhaps to see whether Loras would turn round for him.

Somehow, Renly thought Loras probably would turn round for him, but all the same he forced himself to settle for keep a steadying hand on Loras' arm, and leaning back against the cushioning of his chair, he merely got himself as comfortable as he could. For it was quite possible, Renly thought wearily, that he and Loras were going to be sitting here in silence for some time.


	34. Chapter 34

It was a long time before Loras spoke, and in the end, he only did because Renly gave him a gentle nudge on the shoulder, reminding him that he was supposed to be coming to some kind of a decision. He looked almost surprised to see Renly sat beside him in the summerhouse, as if he'd forgotten he was there, and Renly suspected that he'd been lost in his own thoughts. 

"So," Renly breathed, "what's it going to be?" 

Loras shrugged, tipping his head back to look at the wooden ceiling. He stared at it for quite some time, his breathing so shallow his chest barely moved. "Yeah," he said eventually, talking to the wooden boards above his head rather than to Renly. "Why not." 

There were plenty of reasons why not, Renly thought to himself, but he said nothing, his curiosity overriding his desire to spare Loras what might be a rather painful few minutes. Indeed, despite his words, Loras didn't look happy about the prospect, and Renly was all too aware that it was probably a difficult decision for him to make. Loras, he knew, didn't best enjoy talking about anything vaguely intimate.

Renly gave him a small smile. “Where do you want to start then?” he prompted, trying to make it easier for him.

Loras scowled, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. “I’m not very good at telling stories," he said, "but at the beginning, I guess.”

"The beginning sounds good," Renly told him gently, though where the 'beginning' was, he had no idea. 

Loras couldn't have had much idea either, for sighing, he returned miserably to staring out of the window. It was a few long moments before he spoke again, and when he did his voice was soft, barely audible over the rain that was lashing against the heavy wooden woof. "I guess the beginning is eight years ago now," he sighed. "It doesn't feel that long."

Renly smiled wistfully. That sentiment was normal, he thought with a sigh. It felt like just yesterday that he'd graduated and yet that was six years ago now. He still felt twenty one and it was impossible to believe that he'd be thirty in less than three years. It was a scary thought, especially considering that Satin had only just turned twenty two. Oddly, he'd never been so alarmed by the age difference when he'd been with Loras, though the gap had been near identical, and Renly wondered why that was, if perhaps twenty seven just seemed much nearer to thirty than twenty six had done, or if perhaps it was that Satin seemed somehow younger than Loras had. Indeed, Renly supposed that whilst Loras had only been twenty one when they'd dated, he'd rarely _seemed_ that young. He'd been independent, he'd had more achievements under his belt than most men twice his age had, and even what Loras had chosen as his 'beginning' was telling. Eight years ago, he'd said. Loras had been fourteen eight years ago, Renly worked out quickly. He ought to have still been busy being a child at that age, not jetting across the world having pictures taken.

"So you already know I was scouted at fourteen," Loras was saying, apparently oblivious to Renly having been a little distracted. "By Elite, the same agency that Sansa’s with now, which was why I was able to pull some strings for her."

His attention fully on Loras now, Renly had to force himself not to raise an eyebrow at that. He'd always wondered whether Loras had put in a good word for Sansa, and now, he supposed, he had his answer. Even Sansa had expected it at the time, and yet Renly vowed to himself to never tell her. 

"I’d just turned fourteen the week before," Loras continued quietly, "and I was in a shopping centre with Garlan spending my birthday money when this woman came up to me and asked if I was signed to any modelling agency at all." He made a face. "Obviously Garlan thought it was _hilarious_ but I took her card anyway. And when I went home that afternoon I asked my parents if I could go up to London and have some photos taken like she'd suggested.”

“And you went?" Renly asked, though that, he supposed, was a really stupid question. What had once been the best paid male model in the world was sitting next to him. He wouldn't have become that if he hadn't gone.

"Yeah," Loras said. "I did. My mother thought I was too young. But I’ve always been good at getting my own way, and so we went up the next weekend and I got some test shots done. I was given a contract that very afternoon and a week later I was told that one of the people at Valentino had seen my photos and wanted to meet with me.”

So far, Renly reckoned he knew most of this, but he forced himself to be patient. He didn't want to hurry Loras; he looked uncomfortable enough as it was.

"And three months later," Loras breathed, "they’d put me on the runaway in Venice. A month after that they'd put me on the cover of Italian Vogue." He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "And just like that everything changed. I was taken out of school and given a tutor that came with me on set; I don't think I ever even saw any of my school-friends again. I was an overnight celebrity I guess."

“And that’s when it went downhill?” Renly asked tentatively. He supposed that sort of fame would be enough to go to anybody's head, let alone a fourteen year old.

But Loras laughed bitterly. “No," he said a little scathingly. "That would have been quite impressive. I was under sixteen. I needed a performance license for everything I did. I could only do a certain number of hours per week. I had to be chaperoned by my mother on every shoot. To be honest, I'd have had no real motive or opportunity to use drugs of any kind. I wasn't allowed to go to the parties and it wasn’t even particularly tiring back then. My mother went everywhere with me, she _did_ everything for me."

“Sounds nice," Renly chuckled, thinking of the kind-faced lady he'd just met. Once more he found himself hit by a wave of imagined what-might-have-beens. 

Loras shrugged though, kicking once more at the green hat on the floor. “In hindsight I guess it was," he admitted. "But I hated it. I hated it with a passion. I was in a glamorous industry. I was on the cover of glamorous magazines. Whilst all the other models went out for champagne and went to VIP parties, I was allowed to make a fifteen minute appearance before having to be taken home by my mother to whatever hotel we were staying in. I made no real decisions for myself. My agency filtered all my offers; every shoot was booked through them; my mother had to sign all my contracts on my behalf; all my free time was spent with a tutor, where I didn’t even learn anything because I simply didn’t care. I think choosing what I ate was the most control I had over anything I did.” He laughed ruefully. “Or choosing not to write my name on my exam papers.”

Renly said nothing at that. He supposed that he could he could understand feeling like he had no choice in anything he did- he himself after all had been shipped from school to school and from child-minder to child-minder without anyone ever asking what _he_ wanted, but he still thought that he'd never have been stupid enough to fail all of his exams on purpose as his personal choice of rebellion.

Loras sighed, continuing when Renly remained silent. “And then I turned sixteen," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "And suddenly I was allowed to do what I wanted. I could work without my mother chaperoning. I could sign my own contracts."

He paused, and what he said next was very predictable, Renly thought. 

"It went to my head," he admitted quietly. "The first thing I did was buy my way out of my agency contract. And then I had even more freedom. They were already hailing me a supermodel by then. I worked freelance. I chose the collections I wanted to show. Organisers turned a blind eye to my age at parties.”

“And you went off the rails?” Renly asked. 

Loras snorted. “God you have no faith in me, Ren," he said, rolling his eyes. "Not that I really blame you. No, I didn't go off the rails. Not too badly at least. I drank quite a bit in first few months- mainly just because I could. But I was all right.” He sighed. “And then I did my first show for Alexander McQueen.”

Renly winced. He knew Alexander McQueen’s reputation. “Was he as bad as they say?” he asked.

Loras laughed. “Er yeah, I loved his clothes. He was one of the best, trained at Savile Row, and I know you shouldn't speak badly of the dead... but he was a nightmare to work with. A creative genius, don't get me wrong, but unhinged. We fell out loads of times.”

From what Renly had read about Alexander McQueen, it sounded like he'd fallen out with everyone at some point in time. “Why?” he asked.

“Well he was all right with me when I was sixteen, but when I got older and came out as liking men as well as women, he’d often be convinced that I was making passes at his boyfriends.” He narrowed his eyes at Renly's expression. "And no I was not before you bloody ask. He was a jealous and paranoid wreck who thought everyone was out to get him and that every gay model might steal whoever he was sleeping with.” He sighed, his face becoming pained. “It's awful, Ren, but I suppose I turned out a little like him in the end. I was convinced everyone wanted to take you from me.”

Renly sighed and placed a hand on his arm. "You probably couldn't help it, Loras," he whispered, his words half lost in the rain.

Loras gave a small, rather sad smile, one that tugged at Renly's heartstrings. “Anyway, I’m off topic," he mumbled. "Back to when I was sixteen and signed with McQueen. He threw good parties, really good parties, and I thought they were wonderful." He paused, looking away from Renly again. "But there was more cocaine at his parties there than there were people. It wasn’t long before I was offered it. And I didn't know how to say no, Ren." He faltered again. "Actually, that's unfair. I guess I didn't _want_ to say no is what I mean to say. Everyone else was doing it, and I was sixteen and on top of the world. I thought I was invincible. So I said why not."

Renly supposed that was the turning point. “And you enjoyed it?” he asked. 

Loras laughed ruefully. “Nobody tries cocaine and doesn’t enjoy it, Renly."

Renly bit back a sigh. He supposed he couldn't give an opinion. He'd known many people who'd used all sorts of drugs recreationally at uni, but he'd never himself. Having grown up with Robert and having realised young what alcohol could do to you, he'd always steered clear of anything that had the potential to be yet more addictive. It had always seemed wise. “And so you used it regularly after that?” he asked.

Loras shook his head. "Nah Ren, whatever people say about you becoming addicted after just one try is bullshit. I used it just occasionally back then, when I was at parties, not even once a month probably. It was just something I did for fun, because it made me look cool. Things were like that for a long time, I guess. It wasn't until years later that I used it much more.” He took a deep breath. “And I guess that was part of the problem really. Everything was so slow that I never really realised I had a problem until it was far too late to turn back."

That was more of an admission that Renly had ever thought he'd hear Loras make, and he had the sudden urge to take his hand off Loras' arm and reach out and hold his hand instead. He refrained though. He imagined that Loras would find that a little embarrassing.

"That was all back in 2008," Loras said, "and that Christmas I was offered a contract with Levi's, to do jeans. But they told me I needed to get myself a visa." He sighed. "I already told you that I left my agency, and in retrospect was really silly as they would have got me a visa for America really easily, a H-1B visa if that means anything to you. But as it was, I had to apply for an 01 visa which was more difficult, and I didn’t really understand any of it if I'm honest. Not even when Willas tried to explain it to me.”

That didn't surprise Renly. He didn't know much about visas, having never had need of one in his entire life. But from what he gathered, they were rather complicated. Loras, on the other hand, didn't do complicated. He hadn't even sorted out the standing orders for the rent when they'd been together; his older brother had done it.

Loras frowned, looking down a little miserably at the floor. “And I’m not like Willas, Ren, or like you for that matter. I don’t understand things like you two seem to. Things just seem to make sense to you. In a way they’d never make sense to me."

Renly squeezed his arm. He might have disputed what Loras had just said, just to try and reassure him but both he and Loras would have known it for a lie. Loras had a certain cleverness of his own, a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, but he wasn't academic like his eldest brother and his sister evidently were. "Visas are probably really complicated," he said instead, hopeful that that might make Loras feel better.

"Yeah," Loras agreed. "They were complicated. I had no idea about the visas. Willas was so patient with me, but it was all red tape and long words to me. I’d thought I could cut it on my own, but I guess I hadn’t realized how difficult things are in the real world. It was then that I got myself a manager, who in turn got me a publicist, and a legal team. They got me the visa in the end."

“And so you went to New York?" Renly asked. 

“Yeah,” Loras sighed. “I went to New York. I thought I’d be going only for six months or so, but I stayed there for almost four years. I never intended to stay so long, I never even bought a flat there until this year, I was that sure I'd be coming home soon. But somehow the weeks turned into months and the months turned into years.”

Renly laughed, shaking his head a little fondly as he remembered how Loras had used to live before he'd came along. “How is that possible that you never bought a flat?" he asked. "I mean you could have afforded it a thousand times over."

Loras shrugged. “Well I guess buying a flat would have meant admitting that I wasn't going to be going home any time soon. And I was there for a long time, Ren, but I wasn’t there consistently. I went all over the States. New York was my base because it meant that the flight back home wasn't very long when I came back for holidays."

Renly might have disputed his definition of 'not very long' but he said nothing.

"-I crossed the United States like you might cross London, Ren. When I actually _was_ in New York I flitted between different hotel suites depending on which part of the city I was working in, and on which particular girl my publicist thought I should be seen out with. Alayaya was the first, I think you knew that already, and we didn’t get on too well. It was an arranged thing, but she actually quite liked me." He winced. "And I was really awkward around her. I guess I'd probably known I was gay deep down before then, but I'd never really thought about it much before she came along, and on the very rare occasion that we were actually alone together, she used to try and kiss me."

"I bet that went down well," Renly chuckled.

"Yeah..." Loras admitted. "I wasn’t the most responsive of boyfriends. I probably upset her quite a bit."

Renly rolled his eyes. He'd make no secret of the fact that he thought all of the relationships Loras had for PR purposes were very silly. He wanted to excuse Loras for being so young, but he couldn't quite do it. Not entirely. He could feel a little pity; he knew far too well himself after all how difficult it was being different from most people, but sixteen or not, Loras had been a model of all things, and in an industry where more men were probably gay than straight. He hadn't exactly been a rugby player who'd have been ostracised for having the indecency to be gay.

His attitude didn't go unnoticed and Loras' shoulders sank. "Don't be like that, Renly," he said softly, his tone making Renly feel a little guilty. "It's not like I ever intended for everything to pan out like it did. After the fourth girl I even told my publicist I was gay. And he told me upfront that it would be bad for my image. I was a top model because I took good pictures but I was a global celebrity because teenage girls fancied me." He shrugged. "So I was to be bi, my publicist said."

"That's really sad," Renly couldn't help but say. "I understand your reasoning, but you shouldn't have cared what all those fans who were girls would think. You shouldn't feel that you have to pretend to be something you're not just to keep other people happy."

Loras turned his face away. "Sure," he said wearily. "But it was decided I was going to be bi anyway. Aside from my family, I only ever told two people that I was gay rather than bi after that." He paused, leaning back heavily against the back of his chair. "One of those people was you, Ren, but the first was Arianne Martell. And I guess she’s rather important in her own way too.”

Renly said nothing. He thought it was pitiful indeed that Loras had hardly told anyone he was gay, but he held his tongue. He knew that if he said anything to Loras, he'd be making a point based on principles, about how Loras ought to have felt able to tell anyone he liked that he was gay. In reality though, Renly reckoned the fact that Loras had only ever told two people that he was gay said more about how few close friends Loras had ever made than any pressure Loras had felt not to tell anybody the truth.

“Where did you meet Arianne?" he asked wearily.

“In California," Loras said. "The Victoria’s Secret Headquarters are in Ohio, but most of the angels seem to be over in LA most of the time. I was in California shooting a campaign for Hollister. Lots of surf boards, beach hair, that sort of stuff.”

Renly laughed, making a mental note to look up that advert as soon as he was back home.

“You laugh,” Loras said dryly, raising an eyebrow. “But I was pretty good on a surf board. Anyway, I was there for a while, and Arianne and I became friends I guess. The tabloids assumed we were dating, and Arianne and I went along with it. It did neither of us any harm. Quite the opposite actually." He sighed. “And she, I suppose, marked where I got in a little deeper. She was fun, carefree, she knew how to have a good time, and she taught _me_ how to have a good time. You probably read about her uncle being arrested back last year, I’m sure you can guess how Arianne and I had our fun.”

“Mm,” Renly admitted. “I can.” He remembered how she'd been at that party in Paris he'd met her at. He'd thought at the time that she'd been suggesting she and Loras hook up, but he realised now that she'd probably been suggesting something quite different.

“And I guess it was then that I started using it regularly, even after I'd gone back to New York and Arianne stayed in California. But it wasn’t until I turned eighteen that I became at all reliant on it. Things got hectic then- some designers don’t use under-eighteens you see, and suddenly, everyone I’d previously been off-limits to wanted to use me. It was then that I started getting tired, that coffee started not being enough to keep me going. I was properly global by then. I was doing three or four countries in a week. It helped keep me alert, keep me focused.”

“Yeah, that’s what you originally told me," Renly sighed. He sensed they were getting close to the part that would actually be relevant to him, and that made him oddly uncomfortable.

“And it was true," Loras insisted. "But like I said earlier, it didn't happen overnight. It happened over years, Ren. I never really noticed when I stopped just using it occasionally and started using it everyday. But somewhere along the line I did start using it everyday, or most days at least- and things went on like that for a long time I guess. Until..." He trailed off, looking as uncomfortable as Renly felt.

“Until what?” Renly pressed gently.

Loras looked at the floor. “Well until I met you, I suppose.”

Renly bit back a sigh, joining Loras in inspecting his shoes. He tried not to let the bitterness that was creeping up on him overwhelm him. All the same though, having heard all Loras had had to say so far, he couldn't deny the fact that, painful as it was, he hadn't actually known Loras particularly well when they'd started dating. He'd thought that he had. But in reality he'd been as in the dark as anyone else was. Arianne Martell had certainly known him better than Renly had. 

He glanced up at Loras. He was a little taken aback to see Loras staring back at him rather earnestly, his tired eyes alert for once as he waited desperately for Renly to say something.

"Carry on," he murmured, pushing his hair off his face.

Loras cocked his head, his expression doleful. "Well you changed things, Ren. I knew I had to tell you. Margaery told me I had to tell you. But I couldn’t do it. We went on all those lovely dates together and I'd never really even been on a second date before." He let out a rather pitiful sigh. "I really liked you, Renly. You were smart, and handsome, and I thought you liked me too."

Renly rolled his eyes at that. Even after all this time, it seemed Loras wasn't quite ready to drop the accusation that Renly had never loved him. "I did like you, Loras," he said quietly, not particularly wanting to get into that argument. "I more than _liked_ you. But you still should have told me."

"I know," Loras admitted. "And I was going to, I promise. But everything went so well that I put it off. I’d promise myself that I’d tell you next week, and then that week would end and everything would be so perfect that I’d give myself another week. And another. And another." He gulped. "And those weeks turned into months, Ren. And somewhere along the line I gave up on the idea of telling you altogether. I made a new plan."

“And what was that?” Renly asked softly. The rain had tapered off now and even though he'd spoken quietly, his voice seemed to echo about the wooden summerhouse.

“I told myself that if I gave up then you’d never need to know," Loras confessed. "That it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

Renly gave a wry smile. Loras' Plan B had obviously never worked out but Renly didn't doubt the potential success of it. He could picture himself and Loras ten years down the line, picture Loras sitting him down and telling him that a long long time ago, he'd used to be a cocaine addict. He'd have been shocked, Renly thought, and he'd possibly have felt very betrayed. But they'd have moved on from it, Renly thought, as long as Loras had assured him that it was long in the past.

“I'm guessing that plan didn't work?" Renly sighed.

Loras shook his head, his shoulders sagging again. “I tried, Ren. Once or twice. I really did. But it made me feel like shit, and then you’d worry about me. Or I’d end up getting aggressive with you and throwing things at you, which was even worse."

Renly winced, no desire to relive that particular memory in the slightest. He supposed now that things would have been better for him and Loras if they'd just split up then and not wasted any more time trying to make a doomed relationship work. He didn't say that out loud though; he knew it would hurt Loras' feelings too much. Indeed, he could tell already that it was a memory Loras was finding to difficult to deal with too. He had that guilty expression which never suited him back on his face.

Loras sighed as Renly waited for him to say more, evidently summoning all of his strength. “And so I figured that there was no point in giving up if it was going to mean that I drove you away in the process," he told him, "So I stopped trying and just hoped you'd never find out. I started going further and further to try and ensure you'd never suspect. I started mixing it in with tobacco so that I could smoke it without you noticing, I hid it around the flat in more and more obscure places instead of leaving it in my bag. I took less and less risks when I cooked it. I'd always used ammonia before because it comes out purer but I started using baking soda because that would look less suspicious in the kitchen cupboards than a cleaning product you never used."  
  
"You cooked it at home?" Renly asked, a little bewildered.

"Well what else would I do?"

"I don't know," Renly admitted. "I assumed you'd just buy it in the form you wanted to use it."

Loras sighed, looking a little ashamed. "Well I could control the purity if I did it myself," he said quietly. "I used to do it in big batches on the rare days that I was home whilst you were at work. I'd use the big saucepan and then I used to spend an hour or so hiding it around the flat."

Renly didn't know why it upset him so much to hear that, but he almost couldn't bear it. It stung to think that Loras had been so organised in his attempts to deceive him. "Where did you used to hide it?" he asked lamely.

"All over the place," Loras admitted quietly. "A lot of it I used to hide it in the ice cube tray in the freezer. It was winter; you never used to go in there. Or I'd put put it in packets and tape it under furniture or behind picture frames."  
  
"Is any of it still there?"  
  
"Probably," Loras mumbled. "I mean I had to try each batch to make sure it had come out right so I wasn't exactly very good at always remembering where I'd put it. There's none in the ice cube tray anymore. I emptied that when the weather got warmer, in case you accidentally drank some. I mean you'd have probably noticed if you had- it would have made your mouth go really numb, but I thought it was too risky."

"God," Renly groaned. He wondered whether he'd find some if he looked hard enough when he returned home. "You know what I've never understood though," he breathed. "Why crack? Why didn't you just stick with the slightly safer option?"

Loras sighed. "Vanity," he said, "Sure crack gives a better high, but I could have got by with cocaine. Snorting cocaine destroys your nose though. Smoking crack's more dangerous but the damage isn't visible. So I used to vary it up." He paused, putting his head in his hands. "That's why I eventually started injecting it," he admitted, "I started getting nosebleeds and I didn't want to start smoking it all of the time, so I thought that might be better. The marks weren't even noticeable really, until I had loads of them."

Renly closed his eyes, trying not to let the disbelief show on his face. “I’d have helped you, Loras, you know that don’t you? If you'd just told me? When we were together?"

“Yeah,” Loras whispered. “I do. But I couldn’t admit that I couldn’t give it up by myself. And by that point it was too late to tell you. It had gone on too long. You wouldn’t have understood.” His voice was plaintive, painfully so, and Renly had to restrain himself from taking Loras' hand again.

“I might have understood,” Renly pointed out.

“But you might not have done," Loras insisted. "And I loved you, Ren, I loved you more than I’d ever loved anything. It was a risk I couldn't take.” He paused, biting down on his lower lip like he did when he was thinking. "And then... and then Sansa came round to ask my advice for that casting call. And she brought that boy who looks like y-”

“Why don’t we skip that part,” Renly told him gently. “I know that bit."

“Yeah,” Loras agreed, his voice barely a whisper. “I guess you do." He looked back at Renly then, and Renly's breath shook to see that his eyes were swimming slightly with tears. "I wasn't expecting you to find out that night. It was pure chance that I had it in my pockets that night. And when you dragged me into our bedroom and accused me, well I panicked. You'd humiliated me in front of all your friends, you'd put me on the spot. I got defensive."

Renly frowned. He'd been so shocked that he'd never really contemplated waiting to confront Loras. He'd acted on impulse. "I could have handled that better," he conceded with a sigh. "I didn't mean to humiliate you. I was just angry. I lost my temper."

"I know you didn’t mean to," Loras said, his voice trembling. "But I was embarrassed. I’d always wanted your friends to like me and I’d always been paranoid that, well, that Sansa was more important to you than me. I can’t tell you how much I resented the fact that you’d brought it up while they were still there. I was furious that you couldn’t have just waited until it was just the two of us again.”

Renly put his head in his hands. “Yeah okay,” he said quietly. “That was really wrong of me. I’ll accept that.”

Loras screwed his face up. “It made me angry, Ren. But most of all, it upset me. You’d told me less than a month earlier that you’d love me no matter what, and naively, I’d believed you. I thought you’d have had enough respect for me not to drag me out of a room full of people and shout at me within their earshot.” One of the tears escaped them, rolling briefly down his cheek before Loras wiped it away. “And then you went further, Ren. You told me you were going to leave me if I didn’t stop.”

Renly took a deep breath but Loras had continued before he could say anything.

“And I knew first-hand that I couldn’t stop," he said, the words falling out of his mouth now like a waterfall. “I know you took my refusal to mean that cocaine was more important to me than you, and the terrible thing is that it was true. But I never intended it to be like that. Coke was more important than everything, not just you. It was never a choice. It didn’t mean that I didn’t love you. It was as if you’d made me choose between you and breathing. I _needed_ coke, like I needed to breathe. I know it sounds odd, but to me it was more essential than anything. If I'd been stranded in a desert somewhere, I’d have chosen coke over water a million times over.”

Renly sighed. He'd have liked to say that he understood what Loras had just told him but he knew he couldn't. He could accept it as truth, but he couldn't _understand_  it. Nobody except Loras would ever fully understand it, he reckoned, or people perhaps who had been in the same position. “And you told me you weren’t even dependent on it?” he asked wearily. 

Loras gave him a rather desperate look. “And I was lying through my teeth, Ren. You knew that. You always knew that.”

“So why didn’t you admit that to me?”

“Because I’d have had to admit it to myself I guess,” Loras said quietly, bowing his head. “And I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t admit that anything controlled me like that. It was easier to decide that I didn’t want to give up than accept I couldn’t. I know it probably won’t make sense to you, but it was easier to pretend to myself that I didn’t have a problem than to face it.”

Renly shook his head. “That makes perfect sense to me actually.” He'd always been rather good at burying his head in the sand too.

Loras bit down on his lower lip. “You gave me two options, Ren. Either face that I needed help, which I couldn’t do, or lose you, which I simply couldn’t do either. That problem had no solution to me, and so I did the only thing I could do. I ran away from you every evening and did so much coke that I could forget about it.”

“Oh Loras,”

Loras grimaced. “I don’t want you to ever feel sorry for me,” he said shortly. “Anyway... I could forget about it whilst I wasn’t with you, but when I was home, you just wouldn’t _let_ me forget it. You’d threatened to leave me and it was evident in everything you said and everything you did when I was home. You’d remind me every other sentence, you’d search my pockets, you’d decided I wasn’t welcome in your bed anymore. The threat was always there, and I couldn’t deal with it. So I got angry instead.”

Renly closed his eyes again. That, he knew, was Loras’ reflex response to everything. Anger came quickly to him, often scarily quickly.

Loras looked away then and Renly suspected the tears were flowing freely now. “And the angrier I got," he whispered, "the more impatient and desperate you got. Which made me angrier, which made you more impatient. It was a vicious circle and one I didn't know how to break."

Renly did take Loras' hand this time, squeezing Loras' bony fingers with his own. He didn't know what to say to that.

“And I’m not like you," Loras sighed, raising his spare hand to his face to wipe away tears that he was hiding from Renly. "I can’t take a step back. I knew you were right, that I needed to give up, but you’d forced me into a corner and I couldn’t admit that I was wrong and you were right.”

Renly interlaced their fingers. “You know, Loras. I’m not very good at admitting I’m wrong either. And I probably was wrong in some respects. I guess I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Loras looked down at their intertwined fingers, apparently forgetting his tear-stained face. “You did what you thought best for me,” he said quietly. “I can’t blame you for that. There was nothing you could have done even. The coke was a deal-breaker for you, a reasonable one really, and I couldn’t give it up. The problem was mine, Ren. You couldn’t have fixed it.”

“But I could have been nicer to you, Loras," Renly admitted slowly. "More patient.”

Loras shrugged. “There’s a lot of things we both could have been," he said.

“Yeah,” Renly agreed quietly. “I suppose there is.”

Loras said nothing to that, and they sat silently beside each other, Renly waiting for Loras to carry on. After a few minutes of waiting though, which passed with Loras merely staring miserably out of the window at the drenched garden outside, Renly wondered if he'd been waiting in vain, whether Loras had said all he wanted to say.

“Have you finished?” Renly breathed.

“Well yeah,” Loras whispered, looking a little ashamed. “We broke up after that.”

He said it so simply, as if them breaking up had been a clear-cut event and not a rather ambiguous one that had driven Renly almost mad, and Renly couldn't help raising an eyebrow. “Well,” he sighed, dropping Loras' hand. “Did we? As far as I was aware you just walked out one night like you had done all week, and that time you didn’t come back.”

Loras turned his face immediately away again. He was evidently ashamed. “I sent you a letter about that,” he breathed. “I already explained why I did that?”

“I know you did," Renly admitted. "And you _genuinely_ thought that it was better that way?”

“Yeah I did,” Loras whispered. “You leaving me seemed so inevitable at that point, so I thought it would hurt less like that. You know, like ripping off a plaster. I thought… I thought it would be less painful, that it would be better for both of us, that-”

“Okay,” Renly murmured. “You don’t have to say any more.” He still didn't agree with or understand Loras' method, but it wasn't worth seeing Loras so upset over it. He wasn't cruel, and Loras, he thought, had suffered enough as his penance.

“And,” Loras’ voice was a little choked, “I guess I didn’t really want to admit it to myself even then, but I part of me thought, well…”

“Take your time." 

“I guess part of me thought that when Margaery went round to get my stuff, that you might, well, that you might chase after me a bit. That you’d call and ask me to come home. But then Margaery told me you hadn’t even wanted my number.” He paused, “And that was hard, Ren. Really hard.”

Renly squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “I never meant to hurt you, Loras," he whispered. 

“I know you didn't, and I guess even I didn’t really realise I’d been expecting you to call until you didn’t. Or until Margaery told you weren’t going to, I guess.”

Renly couldn’t think of anything to say to that and he just bowed his head, a little ashamed. He wondered if he had given up on Loras a little too easily. Part of him thought he perhaps had, that he ought to have fought a little harder, but there was another voice in his head insisting that sitting here with Loras now was skewing his judgement. Looking at Loras now, very ill but at least co-operative, it was easy for Renly to think that he should have tried harder with him. It was far too simple to forget how stubbornly uncooperative Loras had been, how he’d dismissed every attempt Renly had made to help him try and give up.

“Loras,” he breathed heavily. “I don't know what to say. Maybe we should have tried harder. Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to not decide not to call you.”

Loras shrugged, his shoulders jerking violently. “I don’t want to think about it," he said tightly. He closed his eyes. “And I’m done now. Can we just not talk about it any more.” 

“You don’t want to tell me what happened after we broke up?” Renly prompted.

“No, Ren,” Loras breathed. “I don’t.”

That, Renly supposed, was fair. What had happened after they had broken up wasn't really any of his business really. He let it drop without a fuss. “And that’s everything you should have told me?" he clarified instead.

Loras shrugged. “Everything?” he asked, pushing his hair off his forehead wearily. “Probably not. But it’s most of it, Ren. Everything that matters at least."

"Well that's good enough for me," Renly told him with a best smile he could muster. 

Loras didn't return the smile, but he didn't frown either. He just looked embarrassed, as if he were regretting now having said anything at all. "Let's go," he mumbled, wobbling to his feet. "Dinner will be ready soon and Grandmother will moan if we're not back."  
  
Renly hadn't known he was invited to dinner, but he stood anyway and followed Loras out of the summerhouse, perfectly willing as well to pretend for the moment that this rather painful conversation hadn't taken place. 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So accidentally posted this chapter to another one of my stories because I was in a hurry... Sorry ChaserStarr you must have been so confused! Loras died in Velvet chapter 1 and then was casually having dinner in chapter 2... Makes total sense!
> 
> I've managed to cut and paste it over on my phone but apologies if its a bit mangled!

Loras had been right about dinner being almost ready. As soon as they’d come in the front door, the smell of cooking hit them heavily, and right on cue, Renly’s stomach began to rumble painfully. He hadn’t realised until then quite how hungry he was, and whilst he’d been intenin tensingding to put up a bit of a polite fuss about Loras’ family insisting he stay for dinner, those protests died in his mouth.

“You sure I’m invited?” he checked with Loras.

It took Loras a while to answer, busy as he was wrestling with the woolly scarf that seemed to have permanently attached itself to his neck. “Course you are,” he panted when he’d finally freed himself, “You’re my guest.”

Renly smiled at him, that smile widening as he watched Loras rip off the woolly hat his grandmother had forced him to wear with some disgust. It was then thrown unceremoniously back in the wicker basket before Loras set to untangling himself from the very many layers he’d been dressed up in. It took him a while and he was a little red in the face when he finally led Renly back into the kitchen.

Garlan and Willas were already sat down when they came in, and smiling at them, Renly quickly counted the places that had been set around the table. He counted seven, and confident that there were only six Tyrells currently at Highgarden, Renly was rather sure one of the places was for him.

Indeed, as soon as Garlan had seen them standing in the doorway, he leapt to his feet. “Renly,” he grinned, grabbing a bottle of wine from the centre of the table. “I’m told you like a drink.”

Renly laughed and turning to Loras, raised his eyebrow.

Loras shrugged, slightly sheepish. “Well you _do_ like a drink,” he protested, “I didn’t tell them you were an alchy or anything.” He took a quick step behind Willas’ chair, apparently fearful that Renly might try and thump him or something.

Renly merely rolled his eyes at him. “Well I would love a drink, Garlan. Thank you for offering.”

Garlan grinned as he poured Renly a glass of wine, pulling out the chair next to him and gesturing for Renly to sit down.

“Told you so,” Loras muttered as Renly drank, looking plainly smug. He was offered no wine though and neither did he ask for it, merely sitting down next to Renly in front of a glass of water that had evidently been placed there for him. Watching him drink it, Renly wondered if alcohol perhaps didn’t agree with whatever medication he was taking for his anxiety.

A timer went then, and both Loras’ mother and grandmother appeared as if by clockwork, the little old lady helped along by her walking stick until she sank into a chair which was evidently set especially aside for her if the amount of cushions on it were anything to go by.

Renly’s stomach rumbled again as he watched Loras’ mother take a large roasting tin out of the oven, and the meat evidently being left to rest a while, she sat down.

“So how did you like Highgarden, Renly?” she asked as Garlan poured both her and Loras’ grandmother a small glass of wine.

“It was very lovely,” Renly told her, “and it’s really kind of you to have me to dinner. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Don’t be silly,” she laughed, “You drove all this way just to see Loras. Dinner is the least we can do.”

She was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open and it was now that Renly got his first glimpse of Loras’ father. Tall and still with all of his hair, all three of his sons clearly took after him. It was from him that they’d evidently got their curly hair and their height, and whilst he was evidently past his prime, he was still clearly handsome, Renly thought, if you didn’t mind an older man, and if you were able to turn a blind eye to how fat he was.

He sat down happily at the table and it wasn’t until he’d poured himself a very generous glass of wine that he noticed they had guests. He became suddenly flustered at seeing Renly, and bumbling to his feet, he extended his hand for Renly to shake.

“Mace Tyrell,” he said cheerfully. “It’s a pleasure.”

“This is Renly,” Garlan told him.

“Ah of course, _Renly_.” Mace nodded along happily enough. His face was blank though and it was clear, Renly saw, that he had absolutely no idea who he was.

Garlan obviously reached the same conclusion. “A friend of Loras’,” he supplied. Renly was glad for his wording.

“Good good,” Mace smiled. He then frowned, turning to Loras. “Wasn’t that boy you dated called something like Renly? You know, the one you were heartbroken over.”

A stunned silence fell over the table and Renly wished that the ground would open up and swallow him. He didn’t know who was the most embarrassed out of all of them. Renly didn’t dare look at Loras, but he imagined that it would be a painful sight. Renly rather wished that it was just the two of them at the table; if they’d been alone, he could have tried to say something, anything that might have lessened Loras’ humiliation.

He couldn’t avoid looking at Loras’ mother though, for she was sitting opposite him. Her face mirrored what Renly was feeling, and never before did Renly think he’d seen a wife so embarrassed of her husband. Glancing slightly to his left, he was unsurprised to see matching expressions on Willas and Garlan’s faces. Only Loras’ grandmother seemed unaffected, and she’d merely pursed her lips, silently reprimanding her son.

Surprisingly, it was Loras who dared to speak first.

“Yes,” he said, his voice very tight and trembling ever so slightly. “He was called Renly too.”

The pained sarcasm was heavy in his voice but Loras’ father didn’t pick up on it. He nodded along happily, completely oblivious. “What a coincidence,” he chuckled, “I’d have thought it a rather uncommon name.”

Renly cringed, and when Loras said nothing this time, his mother sprang into action. Soon dishes were being placed on the table, and even Renly found himself a little distracted when a large joint of beef appeared to his right and Garlan was suddenly brandishing a carving knife.

It was a roast she’d done, and Renly was very appreciative, both because it smelled delicious and because it allowed them all to move on from the slightly humiliating turn of events. He was even more pleased when his plate was piled high by Garlan, who evidently thought him worthy of large amounts of food.

Loras, meanwhile, was dished up a very small portion, not even as large as his grandmother’s. Glancing sideways at him, Renly saw that he had very little interest his food. He barely picked at it as everyone else tucked in, merely pushing it around his plate with a rather miserable look on his face, his cheeks flushed pink. It was worrying to see him eat so little, Renly thought, but nobody else seemed to have batted an eyelid and so Renly supposed reluctantly that this was normal for Loras nowadays. He guessed perhaps that when you were as thin as Loras was, starting eating properly again was probably hard.

“So, Cambridge I’m told?”

Realising he’d been staring at Loras, Renly glanced up, caught off guard. “Sorry?” he laughed.

It was Loras’ grandmother who’d spoken and she repeated her question.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Loras turned a little pinker. “Yes,” he said, doing his best to look away from Loras and nodding as he tried not to wince. “Cambridge.”

“And Loras tells us you graduated with a first. Very impressive.”

Renly almost did wince this time. Loras had turned beetroot beside him and was staring down at his plate as if he suddenly had great interest in his food, evidently wishing that he were anywhere else but here. Looking at him, Renly was reminded painfully of what the Tyrell’s housekeeper had told him when he’d last visited Highgarden, how she’d gushed about how proud of him Loras had been.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “I definitely didn’t deserve one. Guess I just got lucky.” He tried to change the subject away from him. “I hear Margaery’s at UCL no?”

“Yes she is,” Garlan laughed, taking the bait good-naturedly. “But I’m not sure how much studying she actually does. She always seems to be putting pictures of food on Instagram.”

“She did that once,” Willas pointed out fairly.

Garlan rolled his eyes. “At least twice,” he insisted. “Remember there was that amazing cake she made, with all that blue icing, and that really big plate of bacon?”

He was practically drooling and Willas laughed at him fondly.

“Which she obviously needed,” Garlan laughed, “Because she always seems to be out at some nightclub or another.” He grinned. “I taught her well, it seemed. Everyone knows bacon is the best hangover cure.”

Renly agreed with him but Loras’ grandmother seemed unimpressed. “Margaery works hard,” she said sternly, beady eyes on Garlan. “Hard enough that she can relax once in a while.” She turned to Renly. “I wouldn’t listen to that silly grandson of mine. Margaery is doing very well. We’re very proud of her.”

“We’re very proud of all the children,” Loras’ mother cut in quietly, nudging her husband. “Aren’t we Mace?” She looked rather gently at Loras when she said that, and Renly wondered whether he felt like he’d let his parents down a little. Judging from the way he was staring at his plate miserably again, Renly suspected he did.

“Yes,” Loras’ grandmother agreed. “I have some very pleasant grandchildren, a funny lot as they are.” She turned to Renly again. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting Margaery?”

“Once,” Renly nodded. “No twice actually. A shame I never saw more of her really seeing as we were all in London.”

“Indeed,” Loras’ grandmother agreed. “Well I imagine she’s very busy. And rightly so. Girls never had the opportunity to get themselves an education in my day, and it’s one of the most important things don’t you think?”

Loras bristled at that, rising sharply from his seat and almost knocking his plate over. His lack of an education was a sore spot for him, Renly knew, and he’d evidently taken his grandmother’s remark as a deliberate slight against him.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he mumbled, slamming the kitchen door shut behind him with a lot more force than was necessary.

There was another painful silence as he left, the sound of the door slamming echoing around the kitchen. Renly kept his head down, desperate to avoid looking at anyone.

Mace Tyrell, however, didn’t seem to notice the tension. “He’s in a foul mood today,” he remarked, “He is still taking his medication isn’t he?”

Everyone ignored him, and sighing, Willas turned to his grandmother. “Must you upset him like that?” he asked quietly.

“I’ve upset him have I?” she raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t be proud of my granddaughter just because she happens to have done something he hasn’t. I’m an old lady, Willas, I can’t pander to every insecurity Loras has.”

“But you know what he’s like,” Willas said, “He sees insults everywhere, regardless of whether they’re intended. You could just be a little more sensitive.”

“It’ll do him no good,” she warned. She laughed wryly. “ _Sensitive_ you say? The media are being far from sensitive, Willas, if you hadn’t noticed. And your sensitivity will do him no good.” She looked sternly up at him. “You can’t keep him cooped up here forever; he’ll have to face the real world again at some point, and the more you wrap him up in cotton wool, the more he’ll crumble when he tries to stand on his own two feet again. You shall do him no favours, Willas.”

“Yes Grandmother,” Willas said wearily.

Renly said nothing. It wouldn’t be his place, and neither was he sure whether he agreed with Loras’ grandmother or not. On one hand, he could see her point. It was certainly true that Loras needed to grow a thicker skin and let go of a little of his pride if he was to have any hope of not letting himself be bothered by the rubbish journalists were writing about him. On the other hand, Renly wondered if Loras perhaps needed his family to be a little overly tactful considering that nobody else was going to be.

“I’ll go see if he’s okay,” Garlan sighed, his chair scraping the floor as he got out of his chair.

“Wait,” Renly said, surprising himself. “I’ll go if you want.”

Garlan shrugged and sat back down. “Sure,” he said. He flashed Renly a smile. “He probably likes you better anyway.”

Renly couldn't think of anything to say to that, and rising, he merely followed Loras out of the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had a little trouble finding Loras. He wasn’t in the living room as Renly had thought he might be, and neither was he hiding in his bedroom. Coming back down the stairs though, Renly was pleased to notice a light on in what Renly assumed was the bathroom. Unless one of Loras' family had left the kitchen in the short space he'd been upstairs to go to the toilet, Renly reckoned he'd found him.

Hoping indeed that it was the latter and not the former, he knocked softly. “Loras?” he called.

“What?” came the muffled response.

“Can I come in?”

Renly got no reply to that except the sound of the lock turning. Supposing that was answer enough, he opened the door.

Loras was sat on the floor when Renly came in, his back against the wall. He’d evidently been crying, his eyes red and raw, but what most struck Renly was the rage etched across his face. His mouth was twisted into a scowl, his hands balled up into fists, and rarely had Renly ever seen him in such a temper.

He bit back a sigh as he sank onto the floor next to him. “I don’t think your grandmother meant to offend you,” he said quietly, laying a hand on Loras’ arm.

Loras shook it off. “ _Didn’t she?”_ he asked bitterly. “You think I don’t know Ren? I’m the disappointment in the family now. The black sheep, the one who casually isn’t mentioned when my parents are asked how their children are.”

Renly let out a sigh. “Your mother said she was proud of you,” he pointed out, stretching his legs out across the bathroom floor.

“Well what is there to be proud of?” Loras snapped. “The drugs maybe? The string of fake vacuous girlfriends? Or that glorious video me and my cock feature in? You tell me Ren, what the fuck is there to be proud of?” He leant his head back against the wall with a loud thud. “I used to be my father’s favourite and now he’s ashamed of me. I know that.”

“Nobody’s ashamed of you, Loras,” Renly told him gently.

Loras grimaced. “Well I am,” he hissed. “I’m ashamed.” Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he fought back angry tears. “I’m not as stupid as everyone thinks I am, Renly. I know I’ve fucked everything up. I just wish I was somebody else, Ren. Anyone but me.”

Renly didn’t know what to say to that and so he rose, fetching a little toilet roll to wipe Loras’ face with. Crouching down, he dabbed gently at Loras’ tears, before Loras himself grabbed a fistful of tissue and rubbed violently at his eyes with it.

“Don’t say things like that,” Renly told him, sitting back down next to him. “This is just a blip, a pothole in the road. You’ll get back up.”

Loras gulped painfully, glaring at him through his tears. “Stop lying, Renly,” he growled. “I’ve dug myself a hole so deep I can’t see the sky anymore. Would be easier just to lie down and give up.”

Renly sighed. He didn't like that sort of thinking at all; it unnerved him. “But you’ll climb out, Loras," he insisted, doing his best to sound positive. "I know you will. And your family are going to help you every step of the way. It's going to be fine.”

Loras nodded, screwing his face up as he tried to stop the tears from falling again. He grabbed again at the tissue and scrubbed at his eyes.

“Don’t,” Renly sighed, putting a restraining hand on Loras’ arm as he wondered if Loras was going to rub his skin clean off. “Just cry Loras, you’ll feel better after.”

Loras just sniffed, turning his face away. “No I won’t.”

“Yeah you will,” Renly smiled, wiping one of Loras’ tears away with the pad of his thumb. “Promise.”

Loras shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “Whatever,” he muttered, rubbing at his face with the heel of his palm.

Sighing, Renly twisted. “Come here then. You’re crying. You need a shoulder.”

Loras shrugged again but he did turn slightly towards Renly. Sniffing again, he leant his head rather awkwardly against Renly’s shoulder, neck bent oddly as he sighed heavily. “That was lame,” he mumbled, choking slightly on his own tears.

“I excel in being lame,” Renly laughed under his breath. He wrapped an arm around Loras’ shoulder tightly, smiling when Loras eventually buckled and swivelled towards him so that he could bury his face in Renly’s shirt. It wasn’t exactly comfortable; Loras was far too tall to fit properly under his arm sat side by side like this and he was leaving a wet teary stain on Renly’s shirt, but Renly imagined it was better than him crying alone. Even if they were sitting rather awkwardly on the bathroom floor.

If they’d still been dating, Renly might have settled him between his legs so that he could wrap both arms around him and cuddle him properly, but whilst he thought that a one-armed hug when Loras was upset was probably okay, he imagined that a proper cuddle would be going too far. He couldn’t help, however, bringing his hand to Loras’ hair. He didn’t exactly stroke it- that again would have been going too far, but he did pat his curls gently, cradling the back of Loras’ head with his palm more than anything.

“You all right?” Renly sighed, leaning his head on top of Loras’. It felt oddly nice and Renly was hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. He supposed it was to be expected.

Loras nodded against his shoulder, and sighing, he raised his head. “I’m fine,” he said, sitting back heavily against the wall.

“You sure?” Renly eased his arm from out behind Loras’ shoulders, a little squashed as it now was.

“Yeah,” He closed his eyes. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

Eyes still closed, Loras sighed. “Well, I’m sorry about earlier. I guess that’s what I want to say.”

“What do you mean?” Renly laughed. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

Loras’ ran a hand wearily through his hair. “Don’t play dumb with me, Renly,” he mumbled. “We both know that it was awful tonight. At dinner.” He sighed heavily, “You know, I used to look forward to you meeting my family so much. It never went like that in my head.”

“You don’t say,” Renly chuckled. “Funny that.”

Loras screwed up his face and Renly placed a hand on his arm. “Look,” he said, twisting to face him properly “So what if your father didn’t put two and two together. Big deal. And I’m not going to judge because he says you were upset after we broke up. I was upset too.” That, Renly thought dismally to himself, was an understatement. He'd been miserable when Loras had walked out, so miserable that it had been all he could do to get up and go to work in the morning.

Loras though didn't seem to realise this. “Yeah,” he agreed half-heartedly, “I guess.”

Renly smiled, and standing, pulled Loras up to his feet. “You ready to go back out there then?” he asked.

Loras nodded, “Sure,” he said wearily. “If we have to.”

Thinking that they did indeed have to and that they couldn’t stay locked in the bathroom forever, Renly gave him a gentle nudge towards the sink. “Go splash your face with some cold water,” he said, “and then nobody will even know you were crying.”

Sniffing one last time, Loras did as he said.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras was very quiet when they returned to dinner, and whilst the cold water had helped, Renly reckoned everyone could tell that he’d been crying. Nobody was tactless enough to say anything though, and rallying, they got through the remainder of the meal without any more blunders, despite the fact that the food was now more than a little cold and Loras’ mother seemed a little anxious about her youngest son.

Cake was taken in the living room, and Renly felt a little more cheerful when he found that it tasted as good as it had smelt earlier. He ate his portion gladly, not caring that he was getting chocolate all over his hands. Predictably, Loras was the only one who didn’t have any. He’d rejected his mother’s efforts to tempt him with some, and instead, rather sadly, Renly had thought, he’d been given a glass of water and a couple of tablets to take.

It didn’t take Renly long to demolish his portion, and wiping his hands on his serviette once he was finished, he glanced surreptitiously at his phone. It was well past the time he’d originally planned on leaving, and really, he supposed he’d better be going. He'd never planned on staying for dinner, and neither had he planned on spending a good quarter of an hour locked inside a bathroom with Loras.

He felt awkward announcing that he had to leave though, and he was a little glad when Willas seemed to notice his intentions.

“Had you better be off?” he asked quietly, placing his empty plate on the coffee table.

“Yeah,” Renly admitted, glancing again at his phone. “I mean it’s been lovely, but I’ve got work and everything in the morning.” He tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment that that brought to Loras’ face and got to his feet.

Loras got up too. “I’ll see you out,” he said.

“Thanks,” Renly murmured. He turned round to face the room. “And thank you for having me. Dinner was lovely.”

Loras’ grandmother snorted at that but the rest of them smiled, even Loras’ father who seemed to never be quite with it. They even waved him goodbye as Renly made to follow Loras back to the hall to get his coat.

It was freezing outside, the air hitting their faces like a wall of ice as they stepped through the door, and Renly wished he’d insisted on making Loras layer up before going out like his grandmother had done. As it was though, Renly had to make do with just feeling very guilty as Loras did his best not to shiver beside him, too stubborn to put the hat and scarf he’d hated so much back on.

Neither he or Loras spoke as Loras shut the door behind him, and Renly had to content himself with looking up at the sky. The stars were out, and so used to them being near invisible in the ever-bright London sky, Renly smiled up at them, wishing he had occasion to come into the countryside more often, and under decidedly better circumstances.

It was only when they reached the path that Loras decided to speak. “Thank you for coming to see me,” he whispered, his breath frosty in the icy evening air.

Renly smiled, forcing himself to stop looking stupidly up at the sky like a naive Londoner who'd never seen stars before. “Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “It was nice seeing you.” His car was in sight now, and Renly steered them both towards it.

Loras shrugged though, raising an eyebrow that was just visible in the darkness. “Could have gone better couldn’t it?” he said quietly.

Renly laughed. “Possibly,” he admitted, searching for his keys in his coat pocket. “I’ll tell you what though,” he smiled, glancing sideways at Loras just as the moonlight caught his face. “If you want, you can come and visit me in London when you’re a little better. We’d have a nice time. Do something as friends.”

Loras nodded stiffly beside him. “Yeah, maybe,” he breathed. He didn’t sound too enthusiastic and Renly suddenly regretted making the offer.

“Do you not want to come?” Renly asked gently, keys finally in his hand. “I’d understand if you didn’t.”

They’d reached the car now and Loras sighed, leaning against the side door. “It’s just, well, your flat used to be my home I suppose. It would be odd to go there for a visit.”

Renly supposed he could understand that, and he didn’t push the issue. “Well the option shall always be there,” he said.

Loras nodded, his curls bouncing. “Does your boyfriend live with you?” he asked.

Renly almost laughed at that. Inviting Loras for a visit was one thing, but he didn’t think he’d have made the offer if he and Satin had shared a flat. That, he thought, would be crossing a line. “No, Loras,” he said, “he doesn’t. He has a flat too. He just stays over occasionally.”

Loras made an odd little noise in the back of his throat at that. “And what’s he like?” he whispered.

Renly laughed nervously, feeling suddenly a bit awkward. “Well he’s nice,” he managed, “Dark hair, about your age.” Oddly, he decided it best to leave out the part about Satin having sex with people for money. Somehow, he thought that a little unsuitable to share on a whim with Loras.

Loras nodded, leaning yet more heavily against the red metal of the car. “Still cradle snatching then?”

Stunned, Renly felt his mouth fall open. “ _Cradle snatching?”_ he said indignantly. “You were twenty one, not sixteen.”

Loras shrugged, a smirk coming to his face that somehow reassure Renly. “Cradle snatching,” he repeated deliberately, twisting a curl around one of his fingers.

Renly raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue. The criticism, he thought, was greatly unfair. Before Satin and Loras, he couldn’t even remember having a younger boyfriend. “Well you know what,” he laughed, “I have only two words to say to that.”

Loras looked sceptical. “What?”

Renly raised his eyebrow further. “ _Taylor Swift?”_

_Lo_ ras groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “You win,” he admitted, voice half a laugh despite the evident shame in his voice.

Renly grinned at him, turning too to lean against the body of the car. “But genuinely,” he said, once Loras had stopped cringing. “ _Taylor Swift?”_

Loras rolled his eyes. “Everyone makes mistakes,” he insisted.

“Sure they do,” Renly laughed, his smile widening. “and that was your worst one by far.”

Loras almost smiled at that. “This discussion is over,” he said. Firmly, he took Renly’s keys from him and unlocked the car door. Opening it, he gave Renly a surprisingly powerful shove into the driver’s seat.

“All right, all right,” Renly laughed. “I get the message.” He put the keys into the ignition. “I’ll see you soon then?”

Loras actually did smile this time.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, a bit of a filler chapter, but one that was necessary.

It was almost midnight by the time that Renly approached the junction that would take him back into London, and yet despite the hour, Renly didn't really fancy going home. Waiting until he could pull in at a service station- and grab some coffee whilst he was at it, he got out his phone to text Satin, hoping that he would still be up, or else that he wasn't with one of his clients. Satin, he knew, didn't often do what he called 'in-calls' because he preferred not to have his clients in his own flat, but even so, Renly feared turning up on his doorstep unannounced, just on the off chance that Satin had made an exception that day.

Renly was only halfway through his coffee though when Satin replied, and Renly was pleased to see that he was both up and didn't mind him coming over. Draining his coffee, Renly sent him a quick reply before heading back to his car, rather glad. He didn't know why, but he didn't think he could face being by himself tonight. Whether it was that he felt a little guilty leaving Loras when he was so clearly unwell, or whether perhaps he feared spending the whole night wondering how he was, Renly had no idea, but he did know that the thought of going back to his empty flat alone was not particularly pleasant.

The traffic was surprisingly bad for so late on a Sunday night, and Renly was soon glad that he'd chosen to stay over at Satin's. His own flat was much more central and he didn't like to think how long the extra two miles or so would have taken him. As it was though, the only real trouble he had was finding a parking space and remembering which end of the road Satin lived at.

He was half guessing when he stopped outside a chipped front door that he thought belonged to Satin, and too cautious to knock at this time of night, he texted Satin to say he was outside. It was a good thing he'd done so too, for after a few moments Renly heard the door to the flat next to him creak open and Satin's voice call out.

"Renly?" he said, his voice a little confused, "I thought you said you were outside."

"I am," Renly laughed quickly. He stepped over the small wall separating the two houses a little sheepishly. "Wrong house."

"Right..." Satin sounded amused. "Well come here quickly. The lady who lives in that house is a little round the bend. Lots of cats."

Rolling his eyes at that, Renly made his way to the front door that was actually Satin's, noting that this one was even more chipped than the last one. Satin was standing in the doorway though, evidently having just got out of the shower if the towel around his head and the toothbrush in his hand was anything to go by. Clad in nothing but his boxers aside from his odd towel turban, Renly couldn't help but laugh at him.

“Great look,” he chuckled, tugging on the end of the towel fondly. Loras had used to dry his hair in an equally ridiculous fashion and Renly had never ceased to find it amusing. Somehow it had seemed odd to him that Loras was capable of looking so strange. He'd been too beautiful, too much of a fashion addict to spoil it all by wrapping a turban around his head whenever his hair was wet. It broke the illusion of his perfection just that little bit. On the other hand though, Renly wondered if it was testimony to how comfortable Loras had got with him that he'd started daring to dry his hair that way in front of him. At the beginning of their relationship Loras had always left his wet hair alone, letting it air dry without any aid of a towel, and Renly supposed that his towel turban was one of those things that Loras had waited to show him, much like Renly had waited until they'd passed the three month mark before he'd whipped out his dressing gown and slippers combo. Before that he had always wandered around in his boxers, regardless of how cold he'd been.

Satin just smiled though, apparently unashamed of the rather girly way he was drying his hair. “Be quiet,” he laughed, “and stop unravelling my towel. It’s past midnight and I just let you in. Count yourself lucky. I could have left you to the lady next door and her cats.”

Renly grinned and gave the towel another affectionate tug just to wind him up. “I might join you actually," he said, smile widening. "In brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, I mean. Not the towel thing. That really _is_ ridiculous.”

Satin raised an eyebrow, shivering as he shut the door behind them. “Well it’s all right for you,” he laughed softly, “You can use a hairdryer. I’d look like a ball of frizz if I did.”

Renly smiled. “Fine, fine," he smiled. Taking off his coat and hanging it up, he followed Satin inside. Not that there was much inside to see. Renly didn't often come over to Satin's and that, he thought was the primary reason. Advertised apparently as a one bedroom apartment, Satin’s flat was so small that Renly thought it really ought to have been called a studio. It consisted only of his bedroom, his bathroom, and a tiny closet of a room that housed a microwave and which was apparently a kitchen.

Essentially, it was a student’s flat, and both Satin and Renly preferred not being in it. All the same though, Renly had a small bag of toiletries in Satin’s bathroom for when he did happen to stay over. He was glad of that now, and when Satin had finished in the bathroom himself- for they certainly weren't at that stage yet where they could share the bathroom, he took advantage of his foresight to wash his face and brush his teeth.

Satin was in bed when he was done, the towel now spread across his pillow to prevent his hair making it sodden. Satin’s bed wasn’t quite a double- it was allegedly a three quarter and Satin had to shift up slightly for Renly to get in comfortably next to him. This was another reason Renly had hardly ever stayed over. Whilst he supposed it wasn't too bad in winter, they tended to get a little uncomfortable together in such a small bed. All the same though, Renly reckoned he'd rather be here in Satin's small bed than in the room he'd once shared with Loras, and yawning, he leant out to tug on one of Satin's damp curls.

Satin raised an eyebrow at that, rolling over to face him. "So," he laughed. “It’s twelve thirty. I guess I know what you probably want?

Renly rolled his eyes, wondering if he was that predictable. “Nah actually," he sighed. "I’ve driven too far too late tonight. I just didn’t want to be by myself.” Squeezing his eyes shut briefly, he tried not to wonder whether Loras had successfully got off to sleep yet, or if he was currently having one of the nightmares his brothers said plagued him.

Satin frowned, “Bad day then?”

“Not really.” Renly rolled over onto his back to stare at the ceiling, counting the holes in the plaster. “It was just weird I suppose. I never actually met his family when we were together, and to be honest, it was a little strange doing it now. I mean who meets their ex-boyfriend's parents? It was awkward for me and it was awkward for him. I don't regret going, but it was not a particularly comfortable experience."

“I can understand that,” Satin said, head cocked to the side. "It's always awkward when ex-boyfriends are involved."

He was right but Renly found he didn't particularly want to talk about it. It felt strange talking about his ex boyfriend with his current one. “Anyway,” he sighed. “How was your day?”

Satin laughed, flicking off the lamp next to his bed and plunging them into darkness. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah,” Renly chuckled, continuing to stare at the blackness that was the ceiling. “I’m curious." And oddly, he actually was. He'd initially thought that it would be weird thinking about Satin with his clients, but so far, it wasn't. A small voice in the back of his mind piped up to wonder if that meant that he and Satin would never be particularly serious. Part of Renly thought that he ought to find it strange thinking about Satin with another guy, even if it was an open relationship they'd agreed on. He wondered whether the pangs of jealousy he felt might come with time.

“Fine," Satin was saying, "Well I spent tonight in one of London's less glamorous hotels. A Premier Inn to be precise, because the recession hit even us escorts hard. It was one of my regulars. Early thirties I guess, just a bit older than you mayb-"

“I am twenty-seven,” Renly pointed out indignantly. “Repeat after me. _Twenty-seven_.”

Satin laughed, a hand reaching out to caress Renly's cheek fondly. “Fine, you’re twenty seven. He was _a lot_ older than you.” He yawned. “Anyway, as I was saying. It was one of my regulars. A nice guy actually. Tall, quite handsome, a real gentlem-”

“No offence, Satin, but if he’s so wonderful, why’s he paying you to have sex with him?”

“I hadn’t finished,” Satin scolded. “I hadn’t got to the part yet about his wife and their newborn baby girl.”

“Oh,” Renly laughed, rolling over onto his side to face him. “Right…”

“Yeah,” Satin agreed, making a face that was just about visible in the dark. “Not good I know. The little girl’s really sweet actually. He showed me this picture of her the other day. She's tiny and she's got this really dark tuft of hair. Almost made me broody."

Renly laughed. The allure of kids wasn't one that had hit him yet and part of him hoped it never did. He couldn't imagine himself as one of those gay men who adopted a child with his partner. “And he doesn’t care that he’s basically betraying his family?” he asked. "I thought you said this guy was nice. If you ask me, he sounds like a right jerk."

Satin shrugged. “He sees it differently. What he tells me is that he loves his wife but doesn’t find sex with her satisfying. Obviously it would have been better if he’d came out in the first place and never married her, but it’s done now, they have a child. He thinks it best that he satisfies his urges with me and then goes home to her. She’s none the wiser and no happy home gets broken up.”

Renly sighed. “I guess.” He didn't really agree though. It was definitely true that ignorance could be bliss, but he thought it grossly unfair towards this guy's wife all the same. She had the right to know that her husband preferred men. He supposed it was none of his business though, and stifling a yawn, he looped an arm around Satin. “You working tomorrow as well?” he asked.

“No,” Satin smiled, leaning against him. “I like to take Mondays off. Not working till Wednesday actually.”

“And what’s on the agenda for Wednesday?" Renly grinned. "More hot sex with men in Premier Inns?"

“Nope, no sex you’ll be pleased to hear,” Satin laughed. “It’s a woman who’s been invited to the engagement party of the ex who spurned her. I only have her word for this but apparently he cheated on her with her best friend and then told her that the sex was better with said best friend than with her when she confronted him.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Well he sounds like a right tosser. And she’s going to his engagement party? If I were her, I'd have burned the invite."

“Well yeah," Satin chuckled, "I would have done too. But she’s going so that he can see what a strong woman she is, one who’s much better off without him. Obviously she's spent a fortune on a dress which she'll look jealousy-inducingly hot in, and she's having her hair and make up done specially. But there was only one flaw in her plan."

Renly cottoned on quickly. "That she's tragically single?" he supplied helpfully.

"Indeed," Satin laughed, his voice very soft. "So that’s where I come in. I got the brief this afternoon.”

“Brief?”

“Yes, well I’ve got to have a persona you see. This time I’m going to be called James. She and I met at her local library, for I am an avid reader you see. I work in finance, and I’m a graduate in Economics from Sussex University.”

“I see,” Renly grinned. “ _James_." As Satin spoke, he was starting to see the appeal of some of what Satin did. Whilst Renly didn't think he'd ever feel comfortable having sex for money, he reckoned that it would be rather fun to spend the evening being someone's pretend date. "Just out of interest," he asked, "Why Sussex?”

“Because she doesn’t think there’s any guests who’ve been there,” Satin explained. “And because it’s one of the universities I’ve applied to, so I know at least a bit about it. Enough to blag if somebody asks me before I can politely change the subject.”

“Oh,” Renly supposed that made sense. “You know when you told me you were aiming to go to university, I hadn’t realised you’d already applied?”

“Mm,” Satin said, his breath warm against Renly's shoulder. “I have, but I’m hoping to defer a year so I have a chance to save some a bit more. It's a bit complicated you see. I haven't spoken to my mother in years so I won't be able to apply for a loan based on my parent's household income like everyone else does."

"But you'll be able to apply as an independent candidate?" Renly insisted. Although Robert had ended up paying all his university fees, he had investigated getting a loan off Student Finance, and as an orphan, he'd been told to apply as an independent candidate, for which parental income wasn't required.

"Mmm," Satin agreed. "Technically I can. But that 's quite hard to do. I did grow up with my mother, so I don't have any letter from the social services to prove I'm estranged from her. Lacking that, I need to prove that I've been supporting myself for the last three years." He sighed heavily. "Which I have been, but as I'm sure you can guess, all the work I do is cash in hand. I don't exactly get payslips that I can send to Student Finance."

Renly sighed too. "I suppose not," he agreed, thinking that indeed a tricky situation. "Well hopefully you'll be able to defer a year like you want. What other universities have you applied to then?”

“Well I’ve already been rejected by Exeter,” Satin said cheerfully, “I’ve been accepted by Leeds and Aberystwyth, and I’m still waiting on Sussex and Edinburgh, which is annoying, as I really ought to have heard by now.”

Renly winced. “Please don’t go to Aberystwyth,” he groaned, pressing a kiss into Satin's still wet curls.

“Why not?” Satin laughed, raising his head to give Renly a proper kiss. “I’ve applied to do geography. They’re very good for that. In the league tables Aberystwyth is higher than Sussex. For geography I mean, not for anything else."

“I don’t doubt that it's any good,” Renly laughed, tightening his arm around Satin's middle. “but it’s in the middle of nowhere. Actually, correction. It’s in the middle of _Wales_ , which is far worse. It's no wonder they're good at geography. There's probably nothing else to do there except look at rivers and the weather. _And_ ," he added, "if you went, you’d have to learn how to spell it.”

“True,” Satin admitted. He yawned. “Come on though, let’s go to sleep. We can worry about how to spell Aberystwyth tomorrow.”

Stifling a yawn too, Renly nodded. “Sure,” he said, remembering suddenly and with some pain that he actually had to go to work tomorrow. “I probably won’t see you in the morning. Going to leave around seven so that I can go via mine to change my clothes. My brother would have a fit if I turned up in jeans."

“Sure,” Satin said sleepily. “There’s towels in the airing cupboard if you want to shower. You can steal my shampoo if you like too.”

“Thank you," Renly smiled. “Also, courtesy of Loras Tyrell, I’ve just been informed that there’s probably a significant amount of cocaine still hidden in my flat. If I begged, would you come over tomorrow and help me find it? I was thinking of asking Sansa and Arya too. It'll take me ages by myself.” Also, he thought, though he wasn't planning on saying this out loud, he supposed that if Loras ever did take him up on his offer to come and visit, then the flat would have to be completely free of whatever he'd hidden. Whilst Loras had told him that he didn't really remember where his hiding places were, Renly wasn't quite sure if he believed him, and he certainly didn't want to be the one responsible for undoing weeks of what Loras' family had tried to achieve.

Sighing, Renly nudged Satin gently, half asleep against him. "So," he breathed. "Tomorrow? Can I count on your help or not?"

“No problem,” Satin murmured. He nuzzled into Renly’s chest. “God,” he yawned, “How close did you get to Loras Tyrell? You smell like another guy.”

Renly smiled sheepishly. “Says the escort,” he pointed out. “And yeah, we might have had a hug. But a friendly hug. Not any kind of sexual hug." He wasn't lying either, Renly thought to himself. It had felt nice, sort of comforting, as if he'd gone back a year in time, but whilst he'd felt protective perhaps, he'd felt nothing remotely sexual. That was odd, Renly thought. He'd imagined that he still would have felt stirrings when Loras was that close to him, but then again, he supposed that it was hard to gauge that when Loras was so painfully thin and when he'd spent half of the time blowing his nose.

"Yes," he repeated more decisively. "Definitely nothing more than friendly." As he said that though, he did find himself wondering what Satin's opinion was on where exs fitted into the boundaries of an open relationship. "Though just out of interest, where do we stand with exs? You know, seeing as we're not exclusive."

Satin yawned loudly again. "Why?" he laughed softly, the sound warm somehow. "You tempted?"

"No," Renly said vehemently, "I'm not actually. I was just curious."

“Mmm,” Satin hummed against Renly’s neck. “Fair enough.” He pressed a kiss to the underside of Renly’s chin, scratchy as it was. “Well my personal rule is that you can have sex with anybody as long as there's no emotional aspect to it. I'd leave it up to you to decide whether you'd be capable of having sex for sex's sake with one of your exs."

Renly nodded. "Sounds fair." Not that he wanted to, but he imagined that he and Loras would never be capable of achieving what Satin described. Long lost feelings and old promises would almost certainly get dredged up, and if Renly was being cruelly honest with himself, he knew that he'd never choose Loras as a partner if it was just the physical side of sex that he was after.

His train of thought was interrupted by Satin pressing a kiss to his chest. "No more talk of exs now," he insisted sleepily. "And if you wake me up in the morning when you go to work, I will kill you.”

“Sure, sure,” Renly laughed. Wondering how he was ever going to set an alarm that was loud enough to wake him up but quiet enough to let Satin carry on sleeping, he grabbed his phone and set it to vibrate for quarter to seven. Thinking that the best he could do and not really daunted by Satin's threat, he settled back down against the pillows, ready to go to sleep.


	37. Chapter 37

Needless to say, Renly didn't manage to get himself up at seven without waking Satin. As it happened, he didn't even manage to get himself up. He slept straight through his alarm and he woke abruptly, to Satin shaking him a little violently and hissing in his ear.

"What?" he groaned, wrapping an arm around his pillow and burrowing further into the covers. It was warm and cosy under there, and yawning, Renly tried to remember what he had been dreaming about. It had been something along the lines of eating bacon, he reckoned, and smiling to himself, he tried to revisit the dream, the imagined taste of bacon once more filling his mouth.

"Get up," Satin insisted though, shaking him again, warm hands prodding Renly's chest. "Really Renly, get up."

"Where's the bacon?" Renly mumbled.

"There is no bacon," Satin laughed. "Now wake up. It's half past ten."

Renly sat up like a shotgun. " _Half past ten?"_ he repeated. "It can't be. I set my alarm for quarter to seven." He fumbled around hurriedly in the bedsheets for his phone. Finding it, he was alarmed to see that Satin was right about the time. He groaned loudly, pushing a hand through his hair. "I should have been at work almost an hour ago. And I still need to shower," He rubbed a hand over his jaw, "and shave."

Satin laughed at his distress. "Showering is overrated," he insisted, "And shaving too. Just go, now. Before it gets any later."

Renly stumbled out of bed as quickly as he could.

 

* * *

 

 

It was ten past eleven by the time Renly made it into work, in jeans and a borrowed shirt of Satin's that was far too small for him. As Renly had expected and feared, Stannis was waiting for him in his office when he arrived and he did not look pleased. His arms were folded across his chest and his lips were pursed. It was with a face of stone that he turned his icy gaze on Renly.

"What time do you call this?" he asked quietly. Eyes narrowed, he looked Renly up and down, evidently taking in his attire.

Renly grimaced. "Look, Stannis," he laughed, "I know I'm horrifically late, and I know I'm dressed all wrong, but please, can't we just not make a big deal out of it?"

His jaw hardening, Stannis merely considered it. "You'll make up double the hours this week. No arguments."

"Sure," Renly muttered through gritted teeth. "Thank you, Stannis, for being so... _reasonable_." He sat down wearily at his desk as Stannis shut the door sharply behind him, wishing that it wasn't a Monday and that Sansa still came in every day. If she'd been here at least, she might have been able to come up with some vaguely convincing cover story for him. As it was though, he was sat alone in his office, in a shirt that was almost painfully tight across his chest, and he had a week of doing unpaid overtime to look forward to.

It made him want to punch something, but that, he thought, would have resulted in him tearing Satin's shirt. It was a shirt that Satin didn't wear often- mainly because it was too big for him, but all the same, Renly didn't think he'd be particularly pleased if Renly brought it back with a huge gaping hole in it. Sighing, and waiting for Stannis' footsteps to disappear down the corridor, he settled for getting out his phone and texting Sansa, crossing his fingers that she'd be up for coming round this evening too.

He was pleased when she texted back quickly to tell him she and Arya could come. He was less pleased when she called him ten minutes later to inform him that they were bringing along both Sandor and Gendry, and he was even more pissed off when Jaime, overhearing his and Sansa's conversation, invited himself and Brienne along. Brienne of course, Renly had no problem with, but the thought of Jaime meeting Satin turned his stomach a little bit.

"Why would you even _want_ to come?" he sighed as Jaime perched himself happily on Renly's desk and raised his eyebrow at Renly's too-small shirt.

"Sounds fun," Jaime smirked. "Do we get to try what we find?"

"No," Renly growled.

"Easy there tiger," Jaime laughed. He gave Renly a mocking smile. "And nice shirt."

Renly rolled his eyes and turned his face away, hoping Jaime would get the message.

"I see someone's ashamed of doing the walk of shame," Jaime laughed. He patted Renly mockingly on the shoulder. "Brienne and I will see you tonight."

"I look forward to it," Renly muttered.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, Renly realised he needn't have worried so much about Jaime meeting Satin. He’d been somehow convinced that everybody would look at Satin and know without being told what he did for a living, but as it was, nobody had even batted an eyelid when Renly had introduced him to the group. Admittedly, Jaime had had a little bit of a sly laugh over Satin's name, nudging Brienne in glee, but when he'd found her unresponsive he'd just shrugged and shaken Satin's hand, evidently completely oblivious to the fact that it was an escort he'd just shaken hands with.

Only Sansa had known and she of course had just smiled shyly at him, hiding the fact that she thought little of his chosen profession very aptly. She'd been brought up by her parents to be polite in all situations and Renly reckoned that even if he'd introduced her to a man who strangled kittens for a living, she'd have probably managed to at least feign a little politesse. On this particular occasion, she even managed to force Sandor to greet Satin, and whilst it was little more than a grunt in Satin's vague direction, Renly was very impressed with how she'd handled it.

Gendry and Arya, meanwhile, were late as usual, and they barely even looked at Satin until Sansa cleared her throat awkwardly and nudged Arya pointedly.

"Hi," Arya said bluntly, sticking out a hand in Satin's direction. She bit down hard on her lip. "I've forgotten your name."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "That's because you've never been introduced," he told her shortly, groaning inwardly. For once he wished that Satin was big and fat, with lank straight hair, and that he had absolutely no similarity to Loras. 

"Oh," Arya said, shaking Satin's hand. "Sorry. It's just that you look a bit like one of the previous ones."

Satin gave a nervous little laugh, looking a little baffled by her comment. He paused, evidently wondering if he should ask what she meant. He'd apparently never noticed the similarities between Loras Tyrell and himself and Renly was glad for it. He was even gladder when Satin seemed to decide not to press the issue.

"Well I'm pleased to meet you," he said eventually, letting go of Arya's hand.

"Yeah you two," Arya said absently. She turned to Renly. "So are we going to start or not? I thought we were here to do some hunting?"

Renly smiled at her. "Yeah we are," he said. "Thanks for coming over to help."

"No problem," Arya said. She looked around the room, giving a nod of acknowledgement to Brienne and Jaime. "So here's how it's going to work. There’s eight of us. That means four teams of two. We’ll put two hours on the clock and whoever finds the most wins.”

Renly laughed, exasperated. “You know, Arya, when I asked you guys to come over and help me search my flat, that isn’t quite what I meant. I didn't mean for you to make a _competition_ out of it. ”

“Shut up Renly. I’m still explaining the rules." She silenced him with a palm in Renly's face. "As I was saying, we have two hours. Pairs have to stay together as they search. We’ll work by weight, and we’ll make no distinction between the different forms of cocaine.”

Renly rolled his eyes. "Really, Arya, you're being ridicul-"

"You're being boring," Arya told him bluntly. A small evil smile came to her face. "But then again, I wouldn't expect any less from someone who's almost thirt-."

" _Teams_ , you were saying," Renly said quickly, ignoring Satin's rather affectionate laughter behind him. "How do we organise these teams?"

“Well we’re four couples,” Sansa pointed out. “We’ve got ready made teams.” Indeed, looking around, Renly saw that everyone had naturally separated themselves into their respective couples. Sansa was stood to Sandor's right, his large hand rested on her shoulder like a claw; Jaime and Brienne were sat together on the sofa; and whilst Renly hadn't done it intentionally, he'd stood himself closely behind Satin, a hand having migrated to his waist. Only Arya and Gendry weren't arranged in solidarity with each other, mainly because Gendry was too busy eating a kebab that he'd evidently picked up on his way here, the ketchup staining his fingers.

“But couples are so boring,” Arya groaned.

Sansa pouted at that.

“Fine,” Arya muttered, making her sister smile in triumph.“But you won't be so happy when me and Gendry kick your butt.”

“ _When Gendry and I,_ ” Sansa corrected sternly, reaching out for Sandor's hand now that the teams had been decided.

“Fine,” Arya smirked. “When _Gendry and I_ kick your butt.” Eyes narrowed still at her sister, she took out her phone, an old Nokia brick that Renly was surprised even had a timer on it, and started fiddling around with it.

Seeing as this was a competition now whether he liked it or not, Renly supposed he had better embrace it. Looking around the room, he eyed up his competition. Jaime and Brienne, he thought, would be the weakest team. Whereas every other team had one person with relatively small hands that would be able to negotiate small gaps in furniture, namely Arya, Sansa and Satin, Jaime and Brienne had nobody. Jaime’s hands weren’t exactly small, but it was Brienne’s hands that would pose the problem, Renly thought. Huge and hulking, with thicker fingers than any man, her hands wouldn't be fitting in any small spaces.

Renly wasn't sure what to make of Sansa and Sandor. Sandor, he knew, was very talented at rooting out _people_ who didn't want to be found, but Renly didn't know if that skill would extend to objects and things in general. He was a bit of a mystery, Renly thought.

Gendry and Arya would be the real competition, Renly reckoned. Deceptive as they looked now, Arya still looking for the right setting on her decade-old phone and Gendry still stuffing chips into his mouth, Renly reckoned they would be a ruthlessly efficient team. There would be no fun and games with them, no dawdling around in the hallway and kissing. They would play to win.

That said though, Renly reckoned he and Satin would also be with a good chance. In many ways, they had a head start. Renly of course knew his flat like the back of his hand and he'd been the one who'd actually _heard_ Loras speaking about his hiding places. It was a good advantage, Renly thought, and looping an arm around Satin's waist, he pressed a kiss to the back of his hair.

“Okay,” Ayra said, her phone finally set up. “Ready, steady, go.”

It was clear then who was taking Arya's makeshift competition seriously. She shot off like a rocket, dragging Gendry along like a wild dog on a lead. Jaime and Brienne were next, walking into the kitchen to start their search whilst Renly and Satin headed off into the bedroom. Sandor and Sansa were last, Sansa checking her hair and make up in the hall mirror before following Renly and Satin rather lazily.

"I've no idea where to start," Renly sighed, sitting down on the floor by his chest of drawers and pulling a drawer out idly. Satin sat down heavily next to him, and twisting, he slipped a hand into the gap between the furniture and the floor, feeling around.

"Nothing under here so far," he said. He glanced at what Renly was doing. "And I never met Loras, but I think it's highly unlikely he'll have hidden anything in your sock drawer."

Renly rolled his eyes. "You never know," he laughed. At a loss as to what to do whilst Satin searched underneath the chest of drawers, he turned to watch Sansa and Sandor.

Sansa and Sandor had started on the other side of Renly's bedroom, and watching them, Renly reckoned he’d been wrong about Jaime and Brienne being the weakest team. Sansa, he observed was absolutely clueless. Too much of a lady to get down on her hands and knees to look, she was stood in the centre of the room, directing Sandor rather ineffectively in his efforts. She couldn’t have been going about it more differently from Arya, Renly thought. Renly could see the younger of the Stark sisters out on the landing, and she had her cheek pressed so hard to the floor as she looked under the bookcase that Renly thought she was going to be left with permanent carpet-burn on her skin.

Sansa had evidently seen her too, and pursing her lips, she began a little searching of her own. The first place she looked was under Renly’s duvet, and Renly wanted to point out that he’d have probably noticed if there’d been a stash of cocaine next to him as he slept for the last nine months. It also spoke volumes about how rarely Sansa evidently thought he changed his sheets.

Despite being a little offended, Renly said nothing, reckoning it was in his best interest to let her waste her time. Turning away from her, he tried to refocus his attentions on his and Satin’s own efforts. He couldn't help but notice though when Sansa began to empty the top drawer of his bedside table, strewing the contents across his bed. There were a lot of personal things in that drawer and Renly stood up abruptly just as Sansa took out a shoebox that Renly would really rather she didn't open.

Startled by Renly's sudden movement, Satin turned to look too. He laughed as he saw what Sansa had her hands on. "Isn't that where you keep-"

" _Yep_ ," Renly answered, making a face. He turned towards Sansa again. "Um, Sansa, I'd really rather you didn't look in there."

Sansa's eyes widened. "Why not?"

Renly raised an eyebrow, hoping she'd get the message. "Well there's stuff of a rather personal nature in there, Sansa."

"Oh," she dropped it quickly and Renly heard Arya and Gendry snort from out on the landing. Evidently curious, they peered in through the door.

"Is that where you keep your super realistic sixteen inch dildo?" Arya asked bluntly.

Renly rolled his eyes. " _Sixteen inches?_ " he laughed in disbelief, raising an eyebrow. "I can safely say I don't own one of those."

Satin nodded, wincing. "I think that would be rather painful."

Renly winced too, his imagination being too vivid for his liking for once. He hadn't much experience at all with being the receiving partner and what Arya described struck horror into him. He liked to think of himself as adventurous, but he certainly wasn't _that_ adventurous. Inflicting that sort of thing of a partner went past 'fun', Renly reckoned, and bordered on painfully sadistic. Satin's reaction was proof enough of that. For Satin, Renly imagined, would be rather well versed in some of the more extreme toys and yet even he had winced at the thought. Loras, on the other hand, would have done a lot more than wince, Renly thought. He'd certainly have been dumbstruck at the very idea. That said though, Renly reckoned he'd probably have been rather baffled by any sort of toy, let alone the sort of monstrosity Arya was accusing him of owning.

She was along the right lines though as to what Renly kept in his shoebox, and grabbing it off the bed, he tucked it under his arm before Arya could embarrass him and Satin by opening it. It didn't stop Arya rifling through the rest of his stuff though, and Renly groaned as Arya smirked at what she found.

“God,” she snorted as she sifted through the things Sansa had put on the bed. “How many condoms do you need, Renly?”

Renly rolled his eyes and tightened his hold on his box. “So what?" he laughed. "Feel free to judge me for having the sense to save money by not buying one at a time.” Satin seemed amused at that, and he smiled widely next to Renly, evidently unashamed.

“Yeah," Arya admitted, "but you've taken buying in bulk to an extreme. You do know condoms have an expiry date right?”

Renly stuck his tongue out at her, wondering now why he'd ever invited her round voluntarily to help him search his flat, “Yeah I do know actually," he told her, "but I shan’t apologise just because I have more sex than you.” He'd been virtually celibate for far too long last year, Renly reckoned, and it was hardly a bad thing that he was making up for lost time now.

Satin laughed next to him just as Arya stuck her tongue out back at him. “Come on, Renly,” he smiled, “Don’t rise to the bait. Come help me look.”

Duly, Renly bent down next to him. He was pleased to see Arya and Gendry retreating back onto the landing now that Renly was taking no notice of her. All the same, Renly kept the box of his and Satin's intimate things close by, so that he could keep an eye on it.

“This is too obvious,” Satin was saying, running his hand along the underside of the chest again, a space Renly’s hands wouldn’t fit. “Let's take out the drawers.”

Renly had just started pulling the drawer out when he heard a triumphant cry from Arya back out on the landing.

“Told you we were going to kick your butts,” she shouted, waving around a small packet of white powder like it was a flag.

Renly merely yanked out the drawers faster. It seemed his competitive streak had finally kicked in.

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen his flat in such a mess. Each and every room had been turned upside down, from top to bottom. All of Renly's clothes had been strewn across the floor, every book had been torn from the bookcase and was littered across the landing, and even the hall cupboard, untouched for years, had been emptied, its contents now piled up in great heaps in the kitchen. It was worse than the endless piles of boxes had been when Renly had moved in, and walking amongst it, having to hop between tiny patches of bare carpet, Renly wanted to despair.

It hadn’t been for naught though, Renly was pleased to see. He and Satin had been fairly successful. They’d found packets of cocaine behind most of the drawers, taped to the exterior part so that unless the drawers were fully taken out they would never be visible. They'd also found concealed packets taped behind the picture frames that hung on the walls, Loras having evidently exploited the fact that Renly never dusted behind them.

Loras had evidently been fond of sellotape in his hiding methods and Brienne and Jaime had noticed this too. They'd found packets taped behind both the fridge and the dishwasher, Brienne's strength allowing her to shift heavy objects with ease, though how Loras had managed to move those things on his own, Renly had no idea. He supposed Loras had evidently been a lot stronger than he'd ever realised. They'd also made the most of Brienne's height, and they’d found most of the packets Loras had hidden above things. Several had apparently been stashed on top of the wardrobe, hidden amongst the mess of Renly's stuff in envelopes that, had they not been actively looking out for anything suspicious, would surely have been assumed to be spam. More ingeniously, Jaime had discovered a solitary packet taped to the top of a rather flat and very opaque lampshade that hung from the ceiling.

As Renly had anticipated, Gendry and Arya had been machines. After Arya's first find, she'd seemed to have got onto a roll, and squeezing into spaces that only a cat ought to have fit into, she'd rooted out several packets hidden in the tiny gaps between and underneath furniture. She'd also found no less than six packets hidden in the pages of Renly’s old law textbooks, which she’d shaken so vigorously that Renly was surprised she hadn’t torn the pages out, and through a combination of teamwork and sheer speed, she and Gendry had got to most of the ‘obvious’ ones taped beneath furniture and whatnot before anyone else had even got a chance to have a look in.

It was Sandor though that had really shone, Renly had to think as he sat down wearily at his besieged kitchen table. He’d thought to look in places that would never have even crossed Renly’s mind. With no aid from Sansa's direction at all, he’d found packets in the ceiling fan of the small toilet that Renly hardly went in courtesy of his en-suite. He’d looked behind a broken part of the skirting board that Renly had been meaning to fix for years and had found packets jammed in the gap behind the wood. The hall cupboard meanwhile had yielded a broken pair of Ipod speakers, and like a sniffer dog, Sandor had somehow known to look behind the cloth that covered the actual speakers, revealing the gap that lay behind. His most impressively obscure find, however, had to be the packets that Loras had hidden behind the plastic covers that went over Renly's light switches. Renly had never previously known that he had the type of light switches which were covered in cheap plastic that snapped in and out of place quite easily, but Sandor had quickly enlightened him to that fact.

“How?” Jaime asked incredulously when Sansa boasted of Sandor’s intuition. “ _Just how?”_ Eyebrow raised, he stepped over the pile of stuff that had been heaped in the kitchen door way to grab a chair.

Sandor shrugged, kicking at one of Renly's shirts that lay on the ground irritably. "Druggies,” he said scathingly, “They’re all the same. Think they’re so bloody clever when they’re actually using the same hiding places as everyone else.”

“Well he could have fooled me,” Jaime muttered, rolling his eyes and rocking back on his chair, only to have Brienne force all four legs back to the ground rather abruptly.

Arya, however, seemed unimpressed at Sandor's brilliance. "Enough talk,” she said, “Time to weigh up and find ourselves some winners.”

At her words, everyone started shuffling and trying to find a seat. Even at its tidiest, there wouldn't have been room for eight around the kitchen table, and Renly was amused to watch everybody's futile attempts to find a chair or stool of their own. Eventually though, everybody seemed to remember that they were in a couple and worked on that basis. Satin had perched himself rather comfortably on Renly's lap, Sansa on Sandor's, and Gendry, having failed to persuade his own girlfriend to get up and give him the chair, had squashed Arya beneath him. Only Brienne remained standing, having evidently come to the conclusion that she was too big to sit on Jaime's knee.

"So," Arya declared once everyone was settled. "What can we weigh stuff with?"

Sansa hopped up from Sandor's lap at that, and rooting around on the messy kitchen cabinets for a while, pulled out a set of weighing scales. Triumphantly, she placed them on the only spare bit of Renly's table she could find.

“You can’t weight it accurately on that,” Gendry snorted as Sansa settled herself back on Sandor's lap.

“Well why not?” Sansa asked, indignant.

“We’re dealing in single grams, Sansa, not in the sort of measurements you make cakes with.” Gendry seemed rather dismissive of Sansa's cakes, Renly thought, considering that he apparently ploughed through entire Victoria Sandwiches as if he was eating miniature muffins.

“Well it’s all we’ve got,” Renly told him with a yawn. "And if you remember, it wasn't me who suggested making this into a competition in the first place. That'll have been your girlfriend. You know, the tiny little girl that you're squashing there."

"I'm not being squashed," Arya mumbled irritably, her voice rather pained despite herself. "And I'm not a tiny little girl. Gendry hardly weighs anything. I lift heavier things than him at the garage everyday."

Everyone ignored her, except Gendry who gave her an appraising nod.

"No bloody point weighing them anyway," Sandor muttered gruffly. "Unless he’s incredibly stupid, each packet will be the same."

“Why?" Sansa asked, looking dolefully at the scales she'd found that were apparently useless. "How do we know he didn’t just spoon random amounts into packets?”

“Because he’ll have had to know how much he was taking," Sandor mumbled. "You start guessing amounts and people start dying. That’s how overdoses happen.” He seemed to know what he was talking about and Renly vaguely remembered the rumours that Sandor's older brother was very fond of heroin. Pained apparently by recurrent migraines, the elder of the Cleganes was said to get through opiates as if they were wine.

Jaime raised an eyebrow though. “And how do we know the kid was that smart?" He smirked cruelly. "He didn't exactly come off as the sharpest tool in the shed in that video of his.”

Sandor shrugged his large shoulders. “Well the kid’s still alive isn’t he?" He pulled one of the packets he and Sansa had found out of his jeans pocket. "And we’re not dealing with some casual user here. This is someone who’s enough of an expert in smoking crack that Renly says he did the cooking himself. He’s not going to have divided his batches into random amounts and played Russian Roulette every time he took a hit.”

Renly wanted to argue that any dosage of cocaine was like playing Russian Roulette but he said nothing. It felt odd hearing Sandor and Jaime talk about Loras like that and a large part of him wanted to shout out and remind them that the kid they were talking so flippantly about was someone he'd cared a lot about. Sighing, he settled for tightening his arms around Satin's middle, glad that Loras wasn't present to hear himself talked about like that.

“We just count the packets then?” Jaime suggested.

“Fine,” Arya muttered. Reaching round Gendry with some difficult to grab a bowl out of the pile of stuff on the kitchen table, she emptied her pockets. “"Me and Gendry have sixteen. And we're not lying. You can count them yourselves.”

“Sixteen?” Renly raised an eyebrow, counting the packets she had in his head and sighing when he found that she'd counted correctly. “Satin and I only found eight.” Fishing around for the plastic bag he and Satin had collected theirs in, he emptied it into the bowl Arya had got out.

“Ten,” Sansa said loftily.

“None of which were found by you,” Arya mumbled.

Sansa ignored her, turning her face away and giving Sandor a very light kiss on his unburnt cheek instead.

“Only seven,” Brienne said, stepping forward to add to the pile. It was only a normal desert bowl that Arya had chosen and it was almost overflowing now. Renly felt rather strange as he looked at it, unable to quite believe that he'd lived in his flat for an entire year without ever having come across at least one of the packets they'd found today. He supposed that they'd probably been there throughout the time he and Loras had been dating and he felt suddenly incredibly foolish. Wincing, he thought back to the many times he'd forced Loras to empty his pockets upon coming home during those last few weeks that they'd been together, never once suspecting that Loras had already sidestepped round his efforts months in advance. Loras, he supposed, had pulled the wool over his eyes well and truly.

“So what do we win?” Gendry grinned, also looking at the overflowing bowl, most of which had been found by him and Arya.

“Nothing,” Renly sighed, wishing he'd suddenly done this by himself and not been foolish enough to let Arya make a game out of it. “As I said, it was you who made this into a competition, not me.” He was a little glad when Satin seemed to sense his discomfort, gently placing one of his hands over Renly's as if he knew that it was rather painful to look at just how much Loras had hidden from him. Perhaps he did know, Renly wondered. Satin, after all, had always seemed rather skilled at picking up on his moods.

Jaime was rifling through the bowl now, and interlacing his and Satin's hands, Renly watched as he sorted what they'd found into two separate bowls now.

"So," Jaime announced once he was done, "We have forty one packets, thirty four of coke and seven of crack.”

“Odd,” Sansa remarked curiously, shifting on Sandor's knee to get comfortable. “I thought we’d reached the conclusion that he mostly smoked it. I’d have thought it would have been the other way around, that he’d have hidden more packets of the stuff he could smoke.”

Renly thought he agreed with her, but Sandor was impressed with her logic. “The reason there’s less crack left has nothing to do with how much of it he cooked,” he grunted, “it has everything to do with the fact that he probably lit it up as fast as he could remember where he'd hid it.”

“So what do we do with it?” Brienne asked, eyes wide as she looked at the two bowls. “Should we hand it in to the police station?"

Renly wasn't quite sure exactly who spoke but there was a resounding "no" that echoed through the kitchen, himself included. Regardless of how good one's intentions were, Renly thought, it was never a good idea to announce to the police that you were in possession of a significant quantity of illegal drugs.

“We’ll just chuck it,” Renly said wearily, running a hand through his hair and wishing he'd had time to wash it before everyone had come round.

Gendry raised an eyebrow at that. “But Renly," he protested loudly, "the amount of cash sitting on that table? You can’t be serious about chucking it?” Jaime was nodding away too, much to Brienne's evident dismay, and Renly remembered far too pertinently how poor Jaime had inadvertently made himself by dating the girl his father disapproved of. Tywin had all but showered his favourite son in cash before Brienne had come along, and Renly could see the wheels turning in Jaime's head as he looked at the very valuable stash they'd uncovered today.

“You’re not suggesting we _sell_ it?” he asked incredulously.

Gendry shrugged. “Why not?"

“Who on earth to?” Renly asked in disbelief, almost knocking Satin off of his lap. “I don’t know a single person who does crack cocaine, at least not openly. It's not like we could just walk up to some random person in the street and ask them if they fancy it."

Gendry rolled his eyes at him. “Well unlike you posh rich kids, I grew up with a load of druggies.”

Much to Renly's surprise, it was Satin who answered him, laughing quietly at Gendry's words before Renly could even form a reply. "As did I,” he said rather evenly. “But I think we've got this the wrong way round. This isn’t the sort of stuff you could buy for thirty quid in a nightclub. You know, the sort of coke which has a purity rate somewhere below twenty percent and is cut with worming tablets. This is the real deal." Pausing, he squeezed Renly's hand, twisting to face him briefly. "No offence here, Renly," he said before he turned back to face the others, "But it's the posh rich kids like Renly that buy this stuff, not the sort of druggies I had down on my estate.”

“True,” Gendry shrugged. He looked wistfully back at the bowls. “So what do you reckon this is worth?”

“Depends how pure it is,” Sandor said gruffly.

Renly sighed deeply, wondering why he'd never realised the flaw in inviting some of his less well off friends round to search with him. “Well I got the impression that most of it is bought through a mutual friend of his," he admitted, "whose family specialises in exporting it. It won't have been tampered with too much, I shouldn't imagine.” 

“It’ll be up of seventy five, eighty percent then,” Sandor said. He picked up a packet idly between his fingers, studying it. “We’d probably be looking at near a hundred quid a gram if you flogged it to the right people. So about four thousand say, give or take a few hundred.”

“I could buy a fucking car with that,” Gendry said, looking at Renly hopefully.

“But who would you sell it to? Sansa hissed, her lips pursed. “None of the nasty skinheads at your garage are going to be able to afford that. I agree with Renly. We should throw it away before all of us get in trouble."

Jaime shrugged though, unfazed by her words. "Money is money," he said evenly. "My father's probably made money in worse ways. And your brother too." He raised an eyebrow at Renly, joining Gendry in attempting to wear his resistance down.

"You know what," Renly muttered, "All of you, take whatever you bloody like and do whatever the hell you want with it. Just don't ask me to defend you in court when you end up there." Sharply, he got to his feet, displacing poor Satin rather violently as he stalked off down his own hallway, not caring how many books he trod on in the process. He knew he'd think differently later, but right now, he didn't particularly give a shit about what the others did. He just wanted to huddle under his duvet and forget that Loras had ever given him reason to search his flat in the first place.


	38. Chapter 38

Renly felt better under the covers, warm and safe somehow, his pillow comfortingly heavy over his head. He could hear the others talking in the kitchen but it was reduced to a low rumble now, their voices muffled and pleasantly distant. It helped a lot, he thought. Under here, he could forget about the argument they'd had; he could even forget about the large bowl of cocaine that was probably still on the table- the incriminating evidence that proved he'd been lied to very successfully. With the covers safely over his head and the background noise drowned out, he could imagine that he was somewhere else, in a world perhaps where he'd never even dated Loras, where he'd been one of those millions of people who merely admired his beauty from time to time in magazines.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but he was still buried under the covers when he heard the front door bang shut and footsteps coming towards him. There was a knock on his bedroom door soon after. 

“Renly,” Satin called, “Can I join you?”

Sighing, Renly raised his head, emerging from under his pillow rather unwillingly. He’d have preferred to be alone but he supposed that it wasn’t Satin’s fault that the others had put him in such a foul mood. “Sure,” he said eventually.

Satin didn’t say anything as he opened the door and came to sit on the edge of Renly’s bed. He just sat there quietly, hands folded on his lap. His curls fell over his eyes rather artfully, dark hair falling over dark eyes, and he watched Renly gently, as if he were silent statue. His presence was rather reassuring, Renly found. If it had been Sansa there, he'd have felt an undeniable pressure to _talk_ about what had happened, to dredge up feelings and emotions that he had no desire to dredge up. With Satin, however, he felt none of that pressure. 

“They realised they upset you,” Satin said after a while, placing a hand on Renly’s shoulder, his fingers rubbing firm circles through his shirt.

Renly raised his head. “They did?”

“Yeah,” Satin smiled. “You might find that your flat’s a bit tidier than when you last saw it too. Sansa drove them like slaves.”

Renly found it in him to try and laugh at that, a sort of choked sound escaping his throat. Rolling off his stomach and onto his side, he tugged on the neck of Satin’s shirt. “Come here,” he sighed. “No point me sulking here alone.” He tugged harder when Satin didn’t immediately move and then was a little winded when he inadvertently pulled Satin’s full weight onto his chest.

“I take that back,” he groaned, struggling to breath. “Off.”

Satin laughed softly, and shifted so that he was only putting half of his weight on Renly’s chest. He stroked a hand through Renly’s hair. “You feeling better?” he asked.

Renly sighed, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to focus on nothing but the feeling of Satin's fingers in his hair. “That depends,” he said eventually. “What did they decide to do?”

Satin’s face answered the question before he even opened his mouth to speak. His expression was unsure suddenly and he was biting down on his lip anxiously. “You won’t be pleased,” he said. “The blond one’s selling it to his brother. Apparently he’s fond of living fast and has a lot of parties. _Small man, big appetite_ is what they said to me, whatever that means.”

“Tyrion Lannister,” Renly muttered, wondering how he’d not seen that coming. “He’s a little on the short side, if by short you mean no more than four feet tall.”

“Oh,"  Satin said, nodding. “Well that's what they've agreed to do. Try not to think about it though. It’s not your fault.”

Renly groaned. It was at least partially his fault, he thought. He should have been firmer and put his foot down when Sansa had told him they were bringing Sandor and Gendry along. He should have told Jaime no when he’d announced that he’d be gate-crashing. But it was too late to do anything about it now and so Renly just sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. “What would you have done?” he asked Satin.

Satin paused, his fingers coming to a halt as they carded through Renly's hair. “Honestly?” he said, his gaze meeting Renly's. “Well if it had been my flat that we were searching, then I’d have sold it too. I have several clients who I know would have bought the lot no questions asked. But it wasn’t my flat. It was yours, and everyone knew how you felt about it.”

Renly nodded, and tried to pull the covers out from underneath Satin so that he could get under them and join him. He failed this time to feign a smile, and once he’d succeeded in getting Satin properly in bed next to him, he rolled back over onto his stomach, sighing into his pillow and wondering what kind of a terrible lawyer he was.

“Come here,” Satin breathed. He slipped an arm underneath Renly to give him a rather awkward cuddle. “So today brought back bad memories did it?”

Renly raised his head. “What makes you think that?” he asked, pained to hear how defensive he sounded.

“Come on, Renly,” Satin laughed softly, “I saw your face. You were really upset.” He kissed Renly on the nose rather fondly. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.”

Renly groaned. “Yeah all right,” he admitted. “I guess it did bring back bad memories. Really bad ones actually.” He closed his eyes. “I guess I feel really foolish seeing just how much he’d managed to hide right under my nose.”

Satin merely stroked Renly's hair off the back of his neck at that, fingers soothingly cool. “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

Renly looked up. “No,”

He did end up talking about it. He wasn’t quite sure why and he wasn’t quite sure how, but he talked for almost an hour, whispering to Satin about how miserable he'd been when Loras had left. If it was odd for Satin to hear him talk so mournfully about his ex-boyfriend he didn't show it, and he merely listened patiently, quietly tidying the room as Renly talked.

It was clean by the time Renly finished.

“It sounds like he means a lot to you,” Satin said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Renly agreed. “He did.”

Satin smiled. “Does,” he corrected. He held out a hand to pull Renly up. “Now come, let’s go out for dinner and try and cheer you up.”

 

* * *

 

 

Renly did his best to avoid the others the next day, a feat that was not particularly difficult considering the fact that Stannis had put so much paperwork on his desk that he’d probably be working until the early hours of the morning to get it done. He locked his office door too to avoid any unexpected visits from Jaime, and whilst he did reply to all of Sansa’s texts, most of which had been to apologise for her sister’s boyfriend’s behaviour, he was almost glad to have the excuse of forced labour when she phoned to invite him out for drinks that evening.

He hadn’t been wrong when he’d estimated how long he’d be working either. It was just past midnight when he finally left the office, so late, that if he’d still been with Loras, Renly reckoned he’d have long assumed that he was not only having an affair, but that he was probably engaged in a full blown orgy or something.

Reluctant again to go home to his empty flat alone, where he’d merely spend his time imagining Loras in the act of hiding precisely forty one tiny packets around the house, Renly drove the extra three miles to drop by Satin’s. He’d been hopeful that he might be able to persuade Satin to jump in the car and come back to his place with him, but when Satin opened the door, his hopes faded a little.

Satin usually looked good enough to eat, but tonight he was in rather unflattering tracksuit bottoms, his hair looked like it hadn’t seen a brush all day, and he had a blanket wrapped round his shoulders. He evidently hadn’t been expecting to see Renly outside his door, and he looked a little taken aback, blinking at Renly as if it were an alien on his doorstep.

“Hey,” Renly said softly. “Sorry I didn’t tell I was going to stop by." He paused, noticing that Satin's nose seemed a little pink. "Are you sick?”

Satin shrugged, laughing as he beckoned him in. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just got a sore throat. Think I’m getting a cold.” He wrapped the blanket more tightly around his shoulders. “Come in if you want. I was just watching TV.”

Renly wrapped an arm around him as they went in. Satin had evidently been in bed before he’d knocked, for indeed, it was the only place in Satin’s miniature flat where he _could_ watch TV. There was evidence all around that he was ill, Renly saw. A box of tissues sat on the bedside table, an empty mug next to it, and the fact that he was in bed alone at half past twelve watching rubbish TV spoke volumes in itself.

“I don’t imagine you’ll want to stay,” Satin murmured as he sat down, pulling the duvet up over his shoulders and reaching for another tissue. “Obviously you’re welcome to, but I shouldn’t imagine it’ll be too pleasant lying next to me while I cough all night.”

Renly laughed. “I can’t just leave you here by yourself,” he said. He picked up the empty mug. “What do you want? Coffee? Tea? Hot chocolate?”

Satin gave him a smile. “Hot chocolate please.”

Renly bent to kiss his curls. “I’ll be right back.”

Renly barely fit in the cupboard of a room that was Satin’s kitchen but he managed to get the kettle on and to find the hot chocolate powder that Satin had left on the side. He made two mugs in the end, thinking that he might as well join Satin in over-indulging in hot drinks, and he just about succeeded in squeezing past the door with them to rejoin Satin.

“Here,” he said, pressing the mug into Satin’s hands before joining him in bed. Glancing sideways at Satin, all bundled up in his duvet and his hair more than a little frizzy, he was reminded poignantly of Loras when he'd been ill, or perhaps more accurately, when he'd been either coming down from cocaine. 

Satin's voice ripped him from his thoughts. “You staying then?” he asked, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate and then evidently deciding that it was still too hot.

“Course,” Renly laughed. “Someone’s got to look after you.” He grinned. “I can even make you soup for breakfast if you don’t mind getting up at seven for it.”

Satin smiled and rested his head on Renly’s shoulder. “I think I’ll pass thanks,” he murmured. “But it’s nice that you’ll stay." He managed a rather feeble smile that was followed immediately by a yawn. "Just set your alarm properly this time right?”

Renly rolled his eyes and merely wrapped an arm around him.

 

* * *

 

 

He left Satin sleeping in the morning and this time, he got into work on time, early enough even to sneak up the stairs before there was even a chance of Jaime having come in yet. He was surprised though, upon walking into his office, to see Sansa sat at his desk, her red hair perfectly styled and blow-dried, and he cursed himself for forgetting that Wednesdays remained one of the two days each week that she came in. It wasn't that he _minded_ seeing her exactly; she did after all remain his closest friend by far, but he'd have rather had a little time to think about what he was going to say to her, for undoubtedly she'd ask about his trip to Highgarden.

“Hey,” he sighed, sitting down and nursing the coffee that he’d bought at the Starbucks that was opposite the car park. “Sorry, I completely forgot you were in today, or I’d have got you a caffeine fix too.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed. “I’m on a diet anyway. Got a shoot next week that I need to fit into a dress for.” She sighed. “And before you ask, it’s not for anything big. Just for a small independent clothes store.”

Renly bit back a groan but said nothing, forcing a smile. He knew better now than to make any comment about her endeavour desire to lose weight. She'd just tell him what she always told him- that she was one of the biggest girls that Elite had on their books, and that the weight she was aiming for remained healthy.

She coughed awkwardly when he said nothing. “Talking of losing weight, we never got to speak yesterday. How was Loras when you saw him on Sunday? Has he _gained_ any weight?”

Renly shrugged, turning his face away from her slightly. “No actually," he admitted, wishing he'd had more positive news to tell her. "He looked just as thin as he did when I last saw him.” He thought he’d spare her the details of quite how dreadful Loras had looked though. 

“And how did it go?” she pressed. 

Renly sighed, wondering if she could have picked a topic that he wanted to delve into less right at the moment. “It was fine,” he said. “We had a long chat, made our peace so to speak, I suppose."  
  
She smiled encouragingly. "And?" she prompted. 

"You know what, Sansa," Renly said quietly. "I don’t really want to talk about it right now. Maybe some other time okay? When I'm not stuck thinking about how much cocaine he hid in our flat and how your sister's boyfriend and Jaime Lannister want to sell it.”

“Sure,” she said quickly. “Sure. Also, Satin just phoned. About five minutes before you got here. Wants you to phone him back. Said he phoned your mobile several times but you didn’t pick up.”

Frowning, Renly slipped his phone out of his pocket even though he knew that he ought to be getting down to work. He saw that she was right; he had three missed calls from Satin, all within the last ten minutes. Taking a long drink of his coffee, he swiped his finger across the screen to ring him back, not particularly caring whether Stannis might overhear or not and know he was slacking off. 

“Hey,” he laughed when Satin picked up. “What’s up? Did you want that soup after all?”

Satin laughed at that, but Renly sighed to hear that he still sounded unwell. Sleep apparently had not done much for him, and if anything, his voice sounded more scratchy and pained than it had last night.  

“No,” Satin told him, “Its fine. I can make my own soup.”

“So what’s up?” Renly asked.

“I wanted to ask you a favour actually,” Satin said, “a rather big one.”

Renly stifled a yawn. "Sure," he said. "Fire away,”

“I’m supposed to be working tonight,” Satin said wearily. “You know that engagement party.”

“Well don’t be stupid,” Renly laughed, raising an eyebrow as he reclined back on his chair. “You’re sick. You can’t work.”

“Well that’s what I was going to ask you actually,” Satin breathed.

Renly frowned. “I don’t understand?”

Satin was silent on the other end of the phone. 

“Oh no,” Renly laughed as he cottoned on, shaking his head even though Satin couldn’t see. “Definitely definitely not.”

“ _Please,"_ came the rather imploring response. "It’s just a party. Nothing more. And I can’t bear to be a no show. There’s nothing worse than telling everyone you’re bringing your hot boyfriend and then him being _ill_. Everyone will think he’s stood her up or that he's imaginary or something.’”

Renly wanted to point out that this girl's boyfriend was in fact imaginary, but he merely groaned. “What time is it?” he asked reluctantly. "And how much are you going to owe me if I do this?"

“It's at eight. And it’s only an engagement party. Promise. She won’t try and jump you or anything.” He laughed, sniffing a little. "And I'll owe you a lot. Really a lot. So much that I shall wake you up with a blowjob for a week, even if I have to get up at quarter to seven."

“Fine,” Renly laughed. "But I'm really going to hold you to that."

 

* * *

 

 

Renly didn’t think he’d ever felt more anxious about going to a party, and he tried to remember everything Satin had told him as he went to meet the girl outside Tottenham Court Road tube station, walking as slowly as his legs would permit him to. She was called Kate, he was to be called James. She was blonde apparently, and had assured Satin that she was wearing a red dress and was carrying a silver bag. 

Thankfully, there was only one woman in a red dress standing outside the tube station and Renly approached her warily. 

“Hi,” he said, when he eventually had the courage to attract her attention. “I’m Renly. I’m told Satin explained the situation?”

“Yes,” she said, turning a sudden violent shade of pink as she looked him up and down and evidently liked what she saw. “He did. He said he’d tell you all the details we’d agreed on too? Because that's really important; I've already told all my friends about how we met and stuff.”

Renly laughed, gulping. “He went through all the details,” He assured her anyway. “And don’t worry, I’ve got a pretty good memory.” That at least, he thought, was true. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Loras' grandmother that he hadn't worked hard enough to get a first. Instead, he 'd just had a rather good memory and significant skills in blagging. 

“Brilliant,” she said, “the venue’s just this way. It’s not a sit down meal or anything. Just champagne. And we only have to stay a while.”

Renly nodded. “Great.” He took her arm as Satin had told him to do, and tried to not think about the fact that this was his first date in at least ten years with a woman. 

It was a fancy venue, and the soon to be happy couple were stood by the door, greeting their guests as they came in. There were several groups of people in front of them, and yet being a head taller than everyone else, Renly could get a good look at them. The girl was quite pretty, he thought, very tall with endlessly long legs that even he had to look twice at. The guy on the other hand wasn’t much of a looker. He could only have been in his mid-thirties but he was already starting to lose his hair quite badly, and Renly grinned to see that he had the definite beginnings of a comb-over.

He was just thinking how much better looking he himself was when it was their turn to be greeted.

“Kate,” the man smiled, bumping her cheek and sharing a sideways glance with his fiancée. “So pleased to see you here tonight.” His gaze then flicked to Renly, and Renly noted with satisfaction that he didn’t look pleased at all. The smug smile had melted off his face to be replaced by a rather wary look.

“So this is your, um, your date tonight?” he asked stiffly, arm around his fiancée’s waist.

Renly flashed him his best smile, delighted to see that the guy had to look up to speak to him. “Hi,” he said cheerfully. “James. Nice to meet you. Congratulations on your engagement.”

The man gave a rather stilted nod. “Nice to meet you too,” he mumbled, before turning to greet the next lot of guests.

Renly could see the glee on his date’s face and he suddenly wanted to high-five her.

 

* * *

 

 

A few glasses of champagne in, Renly found himself beginning to have a great time. His date was evidently delighted with the substitute that Satin had found for himself, and never before had Renly been paraded around so proudly before an audience. They made a rather striking pair, Renly thought, her blonde and him dark, and Renly could feel the envious glances following him around the room. He was easily the best looking man there, Renly reckoned, and he basked in it, savouring each and every time an admirer glanced his way.

It was particularly satisfying, he thought, when they stopped to speak to Kate’s ex’s parents. An old fashioned couple, they evidently had a soft spot for the girl that their son had apparently spurned, and at the end of their conversation, the guy’s mother had even patted Renly on the shoulder and told Kate what a ‘nice young man’ she’d found.

They were mingling nicely as they had done all evening when Renly felt his date stiffen next to him.

“What’s wrong?” he laughed, placing a hand on her arm as he imagined the loving and attentive James might do.

“That girl,” she breathed, hands smoothing her dress over her hips a little self-consciously. “She’s watching you.”

Renly blinked. “Which girl?” he asked. He wanted to point out that every single girl in the room was watching him, and that they had been all night. He said nothing though. James, he thought, was more modest and humble than he could ever hope to be.

“The famous one,” she answered. “You know, the one those guys were talking about earlier.”

Renly nodded along, thinking this not the time to inform her that he hadn’t been paying attention during many of the conversations they’d had.

“Her brother’s that famous model apparently.”

Renly’s attention was suddenly piqued. He whipped around. “Which girl?” he asked. He needn’t have bothered. He knew immediately which girl his date was talking about.

She was stood across the room from him, twirling a lock of her long hair around her finger as she toyed idly with an empty champagne flute. In a long blue dress that Renly was sure he'd seen in Vogue last month, she was easily the most beautiful woman there. Looking at her, Renly found himself more than a little uneasy about her presence. Her gaze was curious more than anything though and Renly gave her a rather awkward smile and a bit of a wave.

“Do you know her?” his date breathed, suddenly flustered.

“Yeah,” Renly said slowly, slipping an arm around her waist to keep up the façade. “I do actually.”

“How?” She seemed almost a little impressed. 

“Um, friend of a friend, I guess," Renly mumbled, thinking it not best to announce right now that he'd dated anyone's brother rather than a sister. Taking a deep breath and tearing his gaze away from Margaery, he smiled at his date. “But I shouldn’t worry. She won’t blow our cover or anything.  If you just give me a minute, I’ll sort this out.”

She nodded, gulping as she glanced nervously at her ex, lest he might suddenly become suspicious. 

It was only when Renly took his first step across the room that he realised he’d sounded a lot more confident than he actually was. He approached Margaery warily, hoping that it might look that he was just casually mingling with another guest rather than beelining towards a girl very likely to know that he wasn't actually dating the girl he was with.

“You know,” she laughed, as soon as Renly was near enough to hold a conversation with her. “When Loras told me you were seeing someone, I had assumed he meant a guy.”

Renly returned the laugh a little awkwardly. “Don’t you dare tell anyone,” he warned, “But I’m doing my date a favour. She didn’t want to come alone.” He thought he could spare her the details. Nobody, he thought, needed to know that he was dating an escort at this point. It would be a definite conversation starter, he was sure, but one that he didn’t think he’d be entirely happy with.

Luckily for him, Margaery seemed to accept this as rather ordinary. She merely shrugged. “Fair enough,” she smiled.

“Who are you here with?” Renly asked.

“A guy from my uni,” she told him, leaning back against the wall and stifling a yawn. She looked bored, and Renly reckoned she probably was. “We’ve been on a few dates, and the balding guy getting married is his cousin.”

Renly smiled at her. “That’s nice,” he said, grabbing them both another glass of champagne as a waitress passed. “How’s Loras?”

She took a long drink from the glass Renly passed her. “He’s fine,” she said. Her face broke into a grin. “I’m fine too actually. Thanks for asking.”

Renly cringed, his grip on his champagne flute becoming dangerously tight in his embarrassment. “Sorry,” he mumbled, “that was really rude of me.” He felt suddenly a little ashamed of himself; usually he was quite good at keeping his manners in check.

She merely winked at him though. “I don’t mind,” she laughed. “It’s nice that you want to know how Loras is. I saw him yesterday actually and he was a little better. Well, by his standards, I mean. He was actually dressed for once and he’d deigned to leave his bedroom.”

Renly laughed. “That’s a good sign right?”

“Yeah,” she smiled “It is. It was be expected though. He was in a good mood yesterday. His test results all came back and they were good. I think it was a weight off his mind.”

Renly frowned, a little lost. “Test results?”

Margaery’s brow furrowed and she bit her lip contemplatively. “Oh,” she said quietly, “I assumed he’d told you about that.” She sighed, making a face that distorted even her pretty features. “Don't tell him I told you, but my brother wasn’t very good at the whole not sharing needles thing.”

Renly just stared at her. He didn’t know why but he felt suddenly let down, as if Loras had owed it to him to be more sensible, to take more care. He took a long drink, trying not to let the emotion show on his face. He knew that he had no business now in feeling like that, and that it was not his job to be anxious about the choices that Loras made.

“Right…” he managed eventually. “But he’s okay?” 

“Yeah,” she said, playing with her hair again. “He’s fine. Got lucky I guess. Or didn’t get _unlucky_ rather.”

Renly nodded a little stiffly. He’d have thought that Loras would have been more sensible. “You absolutely sure?” he asked, fighting to hide the anxiety in his voice.

Margaery seemed amused and her eyes glittered. “Yes I’m sure,” she laughed. “But I’ll tell him you were worried about him. That’ll probably make him happier than the actual test results did.”

Renly rolled his eyes and groaned. “Please don’t,” he pleaded. 

“I won’t,” she reassured him. She paused, swilling her glass rather contemplatively before meeting Renly’s gaze. “He told me that you invited him to stay," she said slowly. Her tone was odd, and Renly couldn’t work out whether she approved or not. He supposed that he shouldn’t care anymore, that the opinion of his ex-boyfriend’s sister should be rather redundant now, but he found that he was desperate for her to give him her blessing all the same.

“Yeah,” Renly admitted, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “I did. Do you think he wants to come?” He didn’t ask whether she thought he _ought_ to come.

“Yeah,” she laughed. “I think he does want to. He was really pleased to see you the other day.”

Renly smiled. “He was?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, her tone serious again. “He was. Really happy. He didn’t think you were going to come.” She looked up at him, large brown eyes wide and very solemn. “But you’ll be careful with him won’t you? If he does come that is."

"What do you mean?" Renly asked stiffly.

She didn't break the gaze. "Well, just bear in mind that you’re the only boyfriend he’s had," she said softly, "serious or otherwise. He missed you a lot when you broke up. Too much even perhaps." She sighed. "You've clearly moved on, like any normal person would have, but I'm not sure if he quite has yet, and he might not be very good at accepting things have changed." She rested a hand on Renly's arm, looking earnestly up at him again. "He’ll take quite a lot of patience.”

Renly didn’t know what to say to that so he just nodded. “Sure,” he whispered, and silently, he turned back around to rejoin his date.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Had a very hectic week. Also, the article included is a real article and not something I've written. :)

As it happened, it wasn’t until April that Loras ended up coming to visit. Renly had been beginning to think that Loras had perhaps changed his mind about wanting to come, or that Margaery had persuaded him that it was a bad idea, and yet one rainy April afternoon he got a text out of the blue. Surprisingly, it was from the number that Renly still had down in his phone as Loras, and he’d evidently been given his phone back, for the message appeared to be have actually been written by Loras himself rather than on behalf of him as Renly had been expecting.

Saturday was the suggested date, one which Renly was only half free on, and so the eventual arrangement was that Garlan would drive Loras up to London on the Saturday evening and that he would come to collect him on the Sunday morning. It was a solution that Renly himself had suggested on a whim, and that on closer reflection he felt more than a little uncomfortable about. He was going to make sure that he borrowed the blow up bed that he knew Arya and Gendry owned, so that there wouldn’t be any possibility of them sleeping in the same room, and yet even so he fretted. He fretted a lot.

Satin of course didn’t even bat an eyelid when he was told. Regardless, when Renly met up with him on Saturday afternoon outside the cinema in Leicester Square, notable perhaps because it was the first date that they’d been on that probably wouldn’t end with them leaving early to have sex in the nearest convenient place, he felt a little bit apprehensive. Satin of course was all smiles as usual and that made Renly feel even worse.

He sat through the film silently, fidgeting a little as he ploughed through his own box of popcorn and most of Satin’s. His nerves must have been noticeable, for as soon as the film had finished and the end credits had started rolling, Satin shook his arm.

“Relax,” he laughed. "You are so tense that I could use your arm as a knife."

Renly sighed, rubbing his temple wearily. “It was just really stupid of me, you know. I didn’t think at all about how you would feel about this. I'm the worst person ever.”

Satin rolled his eyes. He didn't have to ask what Renly was talking about. “Don’t try and pin this on me,” he insisted, pulling him to his feet and leading him out of the cinema. “I don’t have a problem with it.”

“But why not?” Renly groaned. “You’d be completely within your rights to.”

Satin raised an eyebrow and guided him out onto the road. “ _Renly_ ,” he said evenly, stopping to lean against a traffic bollard. “I have sex with people for money. I have absolutely no right to have a problem with you innocently having your ex over.”

“But you could still be unhappy about it, Renly said, kicking at a piece of chewing gum that was stuck to the floor a little irritably, "even if you don’t have any rights.”

Satin smiled at him. “You’re staying in separate rooms, Sansa dropped round the blow up bed yesterday. I’m not worried. You're the one that's worried.”  
Renly sighed. “Am not,” he mumbled.

“Now go on,” Satin laughing, giving him a nudge. “It’s almost six. You should be getting home.” He leant up to give Renly a quick kiss. "I'll see you Monday."

Renly stifled a groan and trudged towards the tube.

 

* * *

 

 

He felt a little better by the time that he was home and had prepared his flat for visitors. He himself was going to be sleeping on the blow up bed, and so he changed the sheets on his actual bed, for somehow he didn't think that Loras would appreciate sleeping in the sheets that he and Satin had had sex in last night.

It was just past seven when Renly heard a car pull up outside, and descending the stairs two at a time, he opened the door to wait on the doorstep.

Renly did a double take when Loras got out of the passenger seat. “Well I never,” he laughed, leaning back against the front door as Loras and Garlan walked towards him, Loras hiding slightly behind his brother. “I wouldn’t have recognised you.”

It wasn’t quite true. He’d seen enough photos of Loras over the years in all sorts of weird and wonderful get ups that it wasn’t particularly strange to see him as a brunette. What was a little stranger, however, was the absence of Loras’ curls. He’d evidently chopped a significant portion of his hair off, and it now fell to the tops of his ears, oddly straight. There wasn't even a trace of the curls that Renly had known and loved.

“What happened to your curls?” Renly asked.

Loras said nothing, merely shuffling further behind his brother. It was Garlan who answered.

“Margaery’s Straighteners are what happened,” he chuckled. He leant in close to Renly as if he were confiding a secret. “He looks too much like Justin Timberlake when he was in Nsync if he leaves it. Kind of like a white man afro." He grinned. "I promise you, it's really not a good look."

“Shut up, Garlan,” Loras mumbled at that, kicking at the ground irritably and scuffing his converses. He turned to Renly. “My hairdresser banned me from dying it," he explained. "Said I needed to start over because it couldn’t handle the bleach anymore.”

Renly nodded, unsurprised. He had to smile though at the mental picture Garlan painted of Loras’ hair in its natural state. He supposed that it was logical that Loras’ curls might look a little bizarre when his hair had no length to weigh them down.

Garlan caught his eye then, and Renly turned to Loras. “Why don’t you take your stuff upstairs, Loras? I'll be up in a moment.”

Loras looked back almost apprehensively at his brother, until Garlan gave him a rather hefty push in the right direction. They both watched as Loras disappeared up the stairs.

“He’s a bit nervous,” Garlan confided once Renly had pulled the door to behind him so that Loras wouldn't hear. “Changed his mind about coming about four times on the way here.”

“Oh.” Renly couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He’d been counting on Loras being excited to come.

Garlan must have read his thoughts. “Don’t take it personally,” he insisted. “It’s just that this is the first time he’s left the house since February.” He frowned. “I was originally planning on heading back actually but I might stick around, get a room in a hotel, just in case he wants to come home.”

“Sure,” Renly said, feeling almost a little relieved. He sighed deeply. “Is he really that bad?”

Garlan shrugged. “Nah,” he said, “Just lost his confidence. Gets nervous, but then gets embarrassed about it and so gets angry and lashes out instead.” He laughed. “You know him well. I’m sure you know the drill.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed reluctantly. “I do.”

“It’s really nice of you to offer to have him,” Garlan laughed, “The doctor thinks it will be really good for him. You know, because he’ll be out of the house, but still safe if you know what I mean. Different environment but still one that's kind of familiar."

Renly nodded. “So,” he said. “Any rules? Should we be staying in? Or can we go out?”

“Sure you can,” Garlan laughed, “It would do him good if you did. Whether he’ll want to or not though…" He shrugged. "Well you can ask him, see what he says. Might be a bit anxious about it, might refuse.”

Renly nodded again. “And he’s got all his medication?”

“Yep, and he’s pretty good about taking it. They’re quite good actually, calm him down quite quickly. Though if he’s too much for you to handle, just give me a ring and I’ll come take him away.”

“Sure,” Renly laughed. That seemed to be the natural end of their conversation and smiling, Renly turned to go back indoors, thinking it rude to leave Loras upstairs by himself for so long. Especially considering that it was rather obvious that he and Garlan were talking about him.

“Also,” Garlan said, putting an arm hurriedly on Renly's arm. “I really don’t mean to be presumptuous, and I’ve no idea what your situation is, but please don’t mess about with him if you know what you mean.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Renly laughed, wondering if he should make a public announcement or something just so that _all_ of the Tyrells grasped the fact he had no intention of sleeping with Loras again. “And anyway, I’m actually seeing someone.”

“Great,” Garlan grinned. “That’s great. And he knows that?”

“Yeah, he does.”

“Even better,” Garlan laughed. He clapped Renly heartily on the shoulder.

“Just out of interest,” Renly chuckled, “Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this? I saw your sister the other day and she asked me the exact same question.”

“Well, he’s not supposed to be seeing anyone,” Garlan said, making a face. “No romantic relationships for at least a year, the doctor says.”

“Really?" Renly frowned. "Why?” He'd have thought that a relationship would be good for Loras. He'd have someone to lean on, someone to take care of him. He'd have had someone other than his mother to sit with him through the long nights.

Garlan apparently though was about to enlighten him. “Loads of reasons,” he sighed. “What the doctor says is that he’s supposed to be focusing on staying clean, that sort of shit.” He gave a rather sheepish grin. “Actually, Margaery gave me a leaflet to give to you about it, but if you’re seeing someone else it doesn’t really matter.”

Renly laughed a little hollowly. Evidently, he reckoned, Margaery hadn’t been able to take him at his word when he’d last seen her. “Give it to me anyway,” he sighed.

Garlan handed him it, and giving him another friendly pat on the shoulder, turned around and headed back to the car.

Renly watched him leave before he closed the front door, and calling up to Loras that he'd just be a few minutes, he sat down on the bottom step of his stairs and looked at the leaflet Garlan had given him. It was entitled _Romantic Relationships in Recovery_ , and its main colour scheme seemed to be beige and grey, a rather obvious attempt to be gender-neutral, Renly thought. Sighing, he opened it, a little embarrassed that all of the Tyrells apparently thought that he needed to read this.

 _Romance and Sobriety_ , it read, _When people become sober it opens up a world of possibility. They can now begin to rebuild their life and get back many of the things they have lost. Romantic relationships can be a great source of happiness in sobriety, but they can also be the source of great pain. One of the worst things that an individual can do in early recovery is jump headfirst into romance. It is strongly advised that they remain focused on themselves until their sobriety is strong. Once they are settled in their new life, they can then begin to consider sharing it with somebody else._

_It is recommended that people who are still within the first year of their recovery should avoid beginning romantic relationships. This is because their priority needs to be staying sober. The first few months of recovery are often described as an emotional rollercoaster because there is so much going on. The last thing that an individual will want to do will be to add the stress of a new relationship to the mix. It is going to take all their attention to make it through this early part of recovery._

_Another reason for why people are advised to avoid relationships in the first year is that they need to get to know themselves better before they choose a partner. Those individuals who get sober and rush into a relationship tend to make terrible choices. They may try to use romance as a replacement for alcohol or drugs. All they are really doing is substituting one addiction with another. Until the individual has managed to build a strong recovery, they will be vulnerable in a new relationship._

He was only half way through the leaflet and Renly groaned. He didn't think that he needed to be told all this; he wouldn't in his right mind even think about getting back together with Loras whilst he was still trying to get back on his feet, even if Satin hadn't been in the picture. He tried to force himself to read on all the same though.

 _Finding Romance in Recovery_ , another section started. _People in sobriety can find romantic relationships to be their hardest challenge. They may have abused alcohol and drugs in the beginning because they lacked the confidence to meet new people. When they become sober, they can once again struggle with shyness. It can also be harder to meet people because they no longer go to bars. Sober people most definitely can find romance in recovery but they can benefit from a new approach. These are some of the most effective ways for people in recovery to find romance:_

  * _It is best if people completely avoid new romantic relationships for at least the first year of their recovery._
  * _People in recovery can really struggle in romantic relationships. A huge part of the problem is that the self-absorption that goes hand in hand with addiction can continue to cause damage. When people are too focused on their own needs it makes it impossible for them to contribute enough to their relationships; this means that romantic partners tend to get fed up and leave. It is therefore necessary for people to try to reduce their self-absorption before beginning a relationship._
  * _Old timers in AA offer the following steps that people should take before beginning a romance in recovery. First they should buy a plant and take care of this. If the plant is still flourishing after one year then they should buy a pet. If after two years the plant and the pet are doing well only then should people feel ready for a romantic relationship._
  * _Meeting people in bars is no longer a good option for people recovering from an addiction. There are still plenty of other opportunities for meeting a significant other. Sober people often to find romance when attending classes or at the gym._
  * _In order for people to be happy in their relationships, they first need to be happy with themselves. Those who are dealing with self-esteem issues can struggle particularly hard with romance. It means that they can never fully trust the other person and will be prone to outbursts of jealousy. If the individual does not really love themselves, it can be difficult for them to accept that somebody else loves them._
  * _When people are newly sober their sexual drive can be high. This is because during addiction such feelings will have been anaesthetized by alcohol and drugs. It can feel like the individual has just woken up to the joys of sex. While the awakening of such arousal is a good thing, the individual needs to be careful that it does not lead them into trouble_
  * _During the early years of recovery, the individual needs to make their sobriety a priority. If a relationship is threatening their recovery then they may need to end it._



Renly shut the leaflet rather gladly. He thought that a lot of the tips were rather redundant for Loras, and he chuckled to himself as he imagined Loras attending classes at the local gym or buying a house plant that he could nurture. Somehow, he didn't think that it was likely. Loras, he reckoned, wouldn't need the classes or gym membership to meet new people. Being even an ex-supermodel would be enough for most people, Renly thought.

That ex-supermodel was sat at the kitchen table when Renly came up the stairs. He didn't look particularly happy and Renly wondered if he was now regretting coming again, if perhaps he'd watched Garlan drive away and found that he wanted to be in the car with him.

"You all right?" Renly asked as he sat down opposite him.

Loras nodded. "Yeah," he said. He shifted uncomfortably on his chair, biting down on his lower lip. "I was just wondering if you'd got round to searching your flat yet? I don't want to find anything."

"Yeah I did," Renly told him wearily. He didn't particularly want to relive those memories all that much. "You hid a lot," he confided, "I wasn’t quite expecting so much.”

Loras looked a little small and he merely shrugged, fidgeting under Renly's gaze. “Well, I never really intended to hide so much," he protested, "But when I was high I used to get so paranoid about you finding it that I’d move it around a lot. I’d be almost delusional sometimes; I'd think that you were actually in the next room when I knew you were at work, or that you'd set up cameras to catch me. I’d move it so much that I’d forget where I’d hidden it.”

“Even I didn’t go as far as cameras,” Renly murmured. He tried to ignore the terrible part of him that wondered why not.

“Yeah, I know. It was stupid. But it made sense at the time." One of Loras' hands went to his hair to run anxiously through curls that were no longer there. He dropped it awkwardly. "How much did you find?" he asked.

“About forty packets.”

Loras chewed on his lip. “Could be worse,” he admitted.

“I won’t ask,” Renly laughed. He looked Loras up and down now that he had a better view. Up close, he looked a lot better than when Renly had last seen him. He still had the shadows under his eyes but his cheekbones weren't quite as worryingly prominent anymore and he'd actually shaved properly this time round. He looked like he was on the mend, Renly was pleased to see.

“You look a lot better than when I last saw you,” Renly told him.

Loras looked a little embarrassed at that. He just scowled and looked down at his hands. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Renly smiled. “You really do,” he laughed. There was an awkward pause, where Loras seemed to be doing his best not to look at him. Indeed, Renly didn't think he'd ever seen Loras look more uncomfortable in his life, and sighing, he leant across the table towards him. "Loras," he breathed, "Are you sure that you want to be here? I won’t be offended if you don’t."

Loras’ scowl merely deepened. “No, I do,” he said. He didn’t sound particularly sure though.

Renly waited for him to elaborate and was disappointed when he said nothing. His silence put Renly on edge but he forced a smile. "Great," he said, the false cheer in his voice sounding silly even to his own ears. "So... dinner? Do you want to stay in or go out?”

“Stay in if that’s okay with you,” Loras muttered.

“Of course it's okay,” Renly said cheerfully. “We can stay in if you want.” As Garlan had said might be the case, he got the definite feeling that Loras would have to psych himself up to brave venturing outside. There were photographers outside, and paparazzi, too many people that would hound him.

Loras was characteristically unenthusiastic about dinner, and as always happened when Renly got to choose what sort of take-away was on the menu, they ordered Chinese. It arrived quickly and Renly was more than a little glad. Loras had been less than talkative so far, merely sitting almost silently at the kitchen table and barely even humouring Renly’s attempts to make conversation and it was much easier when Renly was able to usher him into the living room and put plates on their laps, the low hum of the TV in the background easing the silence.

Aside from Loras’ reluctance to chat, it was oddly reminiscent of one of the first few dates they’d had, Renly thought, and as had also happened the first time, he ended up eating most of Loras’ food. This time round was much less enjoyable though, Renly had to think. Loras had seemed much happier to be here last time, and there also hadn't been a gap between them so wide that the Titanic could have sailed through it.

“So what’s the grand plan for you?” Renly asked eventually when Loras was still awfully quiet next to him.

“Plan?”

“You know,” Renly said, helping himself to another large forkful of Loras' noodles. “What are you going to do once you’re better? Will you be able to model again?”

Loras’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be able to model again?” he asked.

Renly almost winced. The reluctance to speak was gone now and replaced by irritation. He thought he preferred silent Loras. “Well you know,” he said, trying to desperately backtrack. “You lost your contracts and everything. There was a bit of bad publicity.” _A lot_ of bad publicity, he wanted to say but he imagined that Loras probably didn't need telling that.

Loras merely shrugged though. “No such thing as bad publicity,” he said tightly. “Everyone did what they had to do, to protect their brand. But they’ll all hire me again in a year or so. When enough time has passed and I can appear on Ellen and give some candid interview about how drugs ruined my life.”

Renly wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but he had to laugh at that. “Right,” he said. “So it works like that does it?"

He must have sounded sceptical, for Loras raised an eyebrow. "Yes," he said sharply, "None of this will have done my career any long term harm.”

“No?” Renly wasn’t really convinced. Some of the articles he'd seen had been more than a little bit scathing. So scathing that Renly didn't think Loras would be able to bounce back from them easily, not without a trampoline at least.

“No,” Loras repeated, eyes still narrowed. “I’m not the first and I won’t be the last.”

He was very blasé about it, too blasé about it, Renly thought, and so he just nodded, not trusting himself to speak without offending Loras.

His silence was apparently enough though and Loras snorted. “You want me to give you a list?” he asked a little bitterly. He didn't wait for an answer. “Almost everyone who's anyone has been in my position. Angelina Jolie was a massive heroin junkie, Drew Barrymore was a coke addict even when she was in ET. Kate Moss, Elton John. Amy Winehouse, Robert Downey Junior, Bruno Mars, Anna Nicole Smith. Princess Leia even was high on coke during most of the Star Wars films and even bloody Oprah admitted to smoking crack. None of _them_ lost their careers."

He sounded quite indignant, and Renly had to admit that here were a few people on Loras’ list that surprised him. “A fair few of those are dead,” Renly commented though. “Well Anna Nicole Smith is at least, and Amy Winehouse too.”

“And neither of them from a cocaine overdose,” Loras shrugged, evidently a little defensive. “Amy Winehouse was alcohol, and Anna Nicole Smith died from barbiturates, which are the exact opposite of cocaine really.” He frowned at Renly. “In fact, name me one famous person who’s died of a cocaine overdose.”

Renly rolled his eyes, wondering how they'd ever got onto this. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge though, and he ran through famous people in his head. Everyone who sprung to mind seemed to have irritatingly died from heroin. “What about River Phoenix, wasn’t he cocaine?”

Loras shrugged. “He died from what’s called a speedball.”

“You’ll have to enlighten me," Renly told him.

“Cocaine and heroin mixed together,” he said. “And it’s always the heroin that kills you. The coke just masks the fact that you've overdosed until it's too late."

“Whitney Houston then,” Renly said triumphantly.

Loras paused. “Yeah okay, she’s on the fence. But they reckon it was long term cocaine abuse that killed her, rather than one big dose. But I’ll give you that one.”

Renly sighed, a little amused by Loras' adamance to prove to him that his behaviour hadn't been too dangerous. “So it’s quite hard to overdose on cocaine?” he asked, humouring him a little.

Loras shrugged. "Harder than it is on heroin," he sighed, “Though, that said, there is an antidote for heroin. It's called Naloxone and it will save your life if you’re given it in time; it actually reverses the overdose. There’s nothing like that for coke. You know that scene in Trainspotting, where Ewan McGregor overdoses and gets put in the cab and taken to hospital? That’s Naloxone they give him there, and it revives you in like a minute.”

Renly knew the scene he was talking about and he nodded along. “Have you ever taken heroin, Loras?”

Loras paused. “Well yeah,” he admitted, “A few times.”

Renly would have liked to be surprised but he really wasn't. He leant back against the cushions of the sofa and wondered why he was here talking to Loras about drugs and not sandwiched between Satin and his bed's headboard. “Just for fun?” he asked.

“No,” Loras laughed ruefully as if what Renly had said was stupid. “To get to sleep.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “To get to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Loras said, having the grace to look a little bit ashamed of himself now. “Coke makes sleeping impossible. You saw how I used to be when we were together. I’d get like an hour or two a night." He sighed, looking at Renly for what was almost the first time all night. "But there’s only so long you can do that for. Eventually you need to sleep, you _have to_ sleep, or you’ll go crazy. I used to use benzos. You know, stuff like Valium, the type of drugs they gave me in the hospital actually. They helped at first, but they didn’t help forever. Opioids work every time. They make coming down off coke bearable, pleasant even. But usually it was methadone I took, lot less dangerous than heroin, and only when I was desperate.”

“God Loras,” Renly sighed, “Even when you were with me?”

“No,” Loras said quietly, looking down at the empty plate on his lap. “Never with you. You used to help with the sleeping too actually. You made falling asleep look so easy, and it wasn’t so bad being awake when we were in bed together."

Renly gave him a small smile. "You know," he said, "I always thought you used to sit on the balcony when you couldn't sleep."

Loras almost smiled back. "Well yeah," he said, "I did spend a lot of time out on the balcony too, but mostly I used to be in bed. It was cold out, Ren. It was more comfortable in bed, even if you did used to steal the covers more often than not."

Renly rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing the balcony was better for other things despite the cold," he laughed.

"Well yeah," Loras admitted, laughing too. "You were a heavy sleeper but I didn't think I could quite get away with smoking next to you." He did smile this time. "Would you never try anything, Ren? You know, recreationally?”

Renly shrugged, taking the empty plates off his and Loras' laps and placing them on the table. “I used to smoke weed sometimes back in uni. And I was a bit of a social smoker back then too, but not really.” He laughed. “The only drug I’ll be using will be botox.” And soon too, he thought, if his friends' recent comments were anything to go by.

Loras smiled, his face lighting up. “Well why not?” he laughed. "Everyone else has it." He stretched out his long legs and Renly was glad to see him looking a little more comfortable than he had done earlier. He'd relaxed significantly and he no longer looked so defensive.

“Would you ever have botox Loras?” Renly asked, not wanting to be alone in admitting the lengths to which he'd go to stay perfect. He imagined that he and Loras would have a fear of growing old in common; Loras was just as vain as he was.

Loras yawned, glancing up. “Huh?” he asked. “Would I or have I?”

“Would you,” Renly said. He gave a rather apprehensive laugh. “Or have you. That works fine too.”

“Yes I would,” Loras said, stifling another yawn.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “And have you?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Like once," he admitted. He laughed at Renly's expression. "What?" he asked. "Nobody wants to get old. I'm a model, Renly. I make my money out of looking young and handsome. It's like asking a hairdresser if they'd want to go bald, or a dog sitter if they'd like to suddenly become allergic to dogs. Of course I don't want to get old."

“Yes," Renly agreed. "But you’re _twenty two_ , Loras. Less than three years ago you were still a teenager."

“Well," Loras said, wrinkling his nose. “It’s more of a pre-emptive measure.” He rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, Ren. Everyone else does the same. You're just irritated that you didn't think of it first."

Renly couldn't deny that there was a tiny inkling of truth in his words. “God," he sighed, "You’re worse than me. How is this possible?”

Loras shrugged. “I’m just richer.” He smirked at Renly. “If you had as much money as me, you’d have been having botox like every week. Probably every day.”

Renly stuck his tongue out at him. He wanted to deny it and yet he couldn't bring himself to, the constant fear of turning thirty in a little less than three years too terrifying. Indeed, he was beginning to wonder now why he had such young friends. Sansa was even younger than Loras, and Renly tried not to think how old he'd look standing next to her in a few years. Only Jaime would be his salvation. Only one or two years off forty, Jaime was still handsome but was definitely no spring chicken. Renly reckoned he'd have to start standing next to Jaime in every photo taken of him soon.

“Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes at Loras. "You're probably right."

“Promise me one thing though,” Loras said, shifting slightly closer.

“What?”

“If you do get botox, don’t overdo it."

Renly raised an eyebrow. "You know," he laughed, "I was never intending on ending up like a waxwork." He grinned widely. "You should see my brother's wife actually. She's overdone the botox recently and she cannot move her face. She used to be beautiful and now she's starting to look just a little bit like she belongs in Madame Tussaud's."

Loras smiled. "Yeah," he said, "Well you take heed. Don't get rid of your laughter lines too much. They really suit you.”

“Laughter lines?" Renly asked in horror, fighting the urge to rise and look in the mirror. "I don’t have any laughter lines.”

“You do when you smile, and you're a smiley person, Ren," Loras laughed. "You'd look awful all cold and expressionless." He shrugged, running a hand over his hair and trying futilely to tuck a strand behind his ear. "Me on the other hand... I probably wouldn't look much different."

Renly was about to agree, for indeed, it took a lot to make Loras smile, but was interrupted by the sound of the door downstairs. Frowning, Renly got up, making his excuses to Loras as he wondered who the hell it was. It crossed his mind briefly that it might be Satin, despite Satin having promised that he wouldn't turn up uninvited, and Renly felt a little terrified. Loras meeting Satin was something he wanted to avoid, preferably forever.

Opening the door though, Renly sighed deeply to see Arya on the step. "Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”

Arya as usual was very blunt. “Sansa forgot to give you the pump for the bed,” she said shortly. “It plugs into the mains you see. Sansa obviously thought you were going to blow it up like a rubber ring.” She held up a wire that had some sort of attachment.

“Well thanks,” Renly laughed.

“I’ll come do it for you if you like,” Arya said, “Gendry and I broke it a bit you see.”

“Right…” Renly made a very informed decision not to ask _how_ Arya and Gendry had broken it. “Thanks. It’s just upstairs.”

She followed him up. “Also,” she said loudly once they reached the top of the stairs, handing him a brown envelope. “This is half of Gendry’s share of the money that Jaime got off Tyrion. Sansa was nagging him about it, said that the least he could do to apologise for his behaviour was share the immoral profit."

Renly rolled his eyes at that and handed it back to her. He could picture the words coming out of Sansa's mouth. “Keep it,” he sighed. “It’s done now.” Gendry, he knew, needed the money. He, on the other hand, didn't.

“Sure,” Arya said. She took the money out of the envelope and slipped it into a pocket in her coat.

Renly eyed her suspiciously. “You’re not going to tell Gendry I didn’t take it are you?”

“Nope,” Arya said, looking slightly confused at the question. “Never even crossed my mind.” She patted her inside pocket affectionately and Renly wondered if the next time he saw her she'd have a bright new shiny motorbike, or at least a new pair of tracksuit bottoms. He supposed he couldn't blame her, and he laughed, shaking his head. He wasn’t surprised. It was Arya. And it was her, he knew, that wore the trousers in her and Gendry’s relationship. Gendry was more easy-going, whereas Arya was just a little bit of a loose cannon.

Loras was still sitting on the sofa when they came in. He looked a little wary when he saw Arya and Renly wondered whether he should have given Loras the option of hiding in the bedroom or something.

Arya seemed unfazed though. “Hi,” she said. She turned to Renly. “Don’t worry. This time I’ve got it down.” She rolled her eyes. “Sansa gave me this huge long lecture about my manners and how rude I was.”

“Hi,” she said again to Loras, stepping forward and shaking his hand. “Sorry I got all confused the last time we met.” She winked. “You’re the one who gives the best blow jobs in the world, not the other one.”

Loras blinked and looked warily over at Renly. He seemed to know that the comment wasn’t intended for him.

Renly groaned, regretting bragging now about how wonderful Satin was at everything he did behind closed doors. “Arya,” he hissed. “Why can’t you just learn people’s names?”

“I know the names,” she insisted. She grinned up at him. “The fashion one that Sansa fancied was Loras. This one is Satin. Loras has _light_ hair. Get it? _L_ for Loras? Satin has _shadowy_ hair which is _S_ for Satin.”

Renly sighed heavily, gazing up at the ceiling and wondering miserably if there was someone up there trying to make his life hell. Resisting the urge to screw his face up, he turned back to face the music. Arya, he saw, merely seemed a bit bemused, clearly not having realised her mistake. Loras on the other hand looked as if he wanted the sofa cushions to swallow him up. His face was deathly pale and he was staring at the empty plates on the coffee table as if his life depended on it. He was embarrassed, and Renly felt awful for him. He'd wanted to avoid having Loras meet Satin at all costs, but Loras having to hear how good in bed Satin was wasn't much better, Renly reckoned.

“Arya," Renly said wearily, "meet Loras. Loras meet Arya." He sighed heavily. "We'll ignore the fact that you guys have met several times before."

“Oh,” Arya said. “Well that’s your fault, Renly. You can’t go switching them like this on me. How am I supposed to tell which one’s which when you insist on dating men that look exactly the same.”

Renly did scrunch up his face this time. “Hey Arya,” he said brightly. “Why don’t you just be on your way now. I’m sure I can figure out the bed by myself.” He escorted her almost forcefully to the top of the stairs and gave her a less than gentle push down them.

Loras was very quiet when Renly came back and this time, Renly didn't try to force him to speak.


	40. Chapter 40

Renly was beyond pleased when he finally heard the sound of the beat-up car Arya and Gendry drove splutter into life outside. The noise was quickly followed by the steady roar of its engine speeding away, and relieved, he sank back down onto the sofa beside Loras, wondering how best to repair this situation.

“I’m really sorry about all that,” Renly breathed eventually, thinking an honest apology was the only way to go. Turning towards him, he searched Loras’ face, trying to assess how much damage had been done. He was pained to see that Loras was a closed book to him for once, his face stony.

Loras shrugged. “It’s all right,” he mumbled. “Doesn’t matter.”

“But really,” Renly pressed. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to hear that. And it’s not a reflection on you, I promise. He’s just really really good. A _lot_ better than me if it makes you feel better?” As much as it pained him, that wasn’t even a lie. Renly prided himself on being a good lover but Satin, he reckoned, left him in the dust. _Easily_ , Renly had to admit, for Satin could do things with his tongue that Renly would never have believed possible.

Loras shrugged again. “The entire of Twitter has told me I’m not very good at blow jobs,” he said tightly. “I can cope.”

His head was held high but Renly knew he was embarrassed all the same. It would be impossible not to be, Renly reckoned. He remembered the incident that Loras was alluding to well, that humiliating tape that Renly had barely been able to sit through even once without dying of second-hand embarrassment. The blow job in that had been pretty awful, Renly had to admit, much much worse than anything Loras had ever given him, and yet considering the fact that he’d barely been able to stand in that video, Renly reckoned that he deserved credit for even finding the guy’s cock.

“Well Twitter didn’t see you at your best,” he said gently. He didn’t bother denying that he’d seen the tape; he reckoned Loras would know it immediately for a lie.

Loras sighed deeply. “I guess not,” he admitted. He raised his head. “But I was never particularly good with you either, not at blow jobs at least.”

Not at anything, the cruelly honest part of Renly wanted to say. He bit his tongue though and gulped the remark back. “Well you hadn’t had much practice at giving head,” he said diplomatically, “and practice really does make perfect.” That would certainly explain Satin, he thought.

“Yeah I guess,” Loras said. “And I did get better didn’t I?”

“Course you did,” Renly laughed. That was very true. Whilst Loras had been no Casanova by the time they’d broken up, he certainly hadn’t fumbled half as much when giving head as he had done at the start.

“And the sex was good at least.”

Renly paused. He had two options- to either hurt Loras’ feelings and probably trample on his self-esteem in the process, or to tell him a small little white lie to spare his pride. Somehow, he reckoned that the white lie was the only acceptable option. There was a time and a place for lying, and this was certainly it. Telling him the truth would do him no good now, he thought, not when he was being prescribed medication for both anxiety and depression. It would be like stabbing him in the back when he was most vulnerable.

“Course it was,” he said softly, pleased to see the genuine smile that this brought to Loras’ face. “Don’t listen to those internet trolls. They only saw you at your worst.”

Loras nodded, pausing. “Did _you_ see it?” he whispered eventually. The smile had disappeared from his face now and he looked most miserable, his hands clasped anxiously in his lap.

“Yeah,” Renly admitted. “I did. I imagine you were rather angry afterwards.” And rightly so, Renly reckoned. He’d have been furious if anyone had taken advantage of him in the way that that DJ had taken advantage of Loras.

“Yeah,” Loras breathed. He paused, swallowing audibly. “But mainly I was embarrassed. I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed actually.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Renly soothed, knowing all too well that he’d have died of embarrassment if it had been him, “Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Yeah,” Loras agreed with a small rueful smile, “But most people’s mistakes don’t get broadcast to millions of people.”

“True,” Renly said. He searched desperately for a silver lining. “But at least you didn’t sleep with him.” He paused. “You _didn’t_ sleep with him did you?”

“No,” Loras laughed, running a hand through his too short hair. “I didn’t.”

“Well that’s good at least,” Renly said cheerfully, his silver lining found. “He didn’t deserve to get to sleep with you. He was a scumbag and you’d be out of his league even if he hadn’t pulled the stunt he did.”

Loras shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder whether it would have been better if I had slept with him.”

Renly frowned. He contemplated that for a while and yet regardless of which weird and wonderful way he looked at it, it made no sense to him. “Why?” he breathed.

Loras sighed deeply, his face pained as if it hurt him to breathe. “Well, afterwards he called me all sorts of things,” he confided, “said I was frigid, unfeeling, that I was a cock-tease. You know, if I’d slept with him, he might have been a little more, well, _forgiving_.”

Renly raised an eyebrow at just how ludicrous that was. It was the sort of thing he’d have expected from Sansa, he thought, not Loras. “Don’t you dare ever think that again,” he warned. “Or I’ll throw you out of this flat. Some people are just bastards, Loras; they’re unforgiving by nature.” He put a hand under Loras’ chin, forcing it up so that he’d look at him. “And there’s nothing so wrong with being a cock-tease,” he insisted. “You’re perfectly entitled to change your mind when you go home with someone. It’s not like you’ve signed a contract agreeing to sex just by stepping foot over their doormat.”

Loras shrugged. “Have you ever changed your mind, Ren?” he asked quietly.

“Loads of times,” Renly laughed. “Especially at uni. My rule of thumb was that I immediately left the moment anyone started vomiting.” He shuddered. “You’d be amazed how many strangers assume that you’ll still want to have sex with them after you’ve watched them throw up all over their bathroom.”

Loras gave a small laugh. “Suppose you’re right,” he murmured. He closed his eyes. “But did you read any of the interviews he did?”

“Only an excerpt.”

“Well I did,” Loras sighed, leaning back wearily against the sofa cushions. “And they were horrible, Ren. He said that I was boring, that magazines must photoshop me a lot because my body didn’t look anything like the pictures he’d seen, and that if I’d been a meal in a restaurant he’d have sent me back.” He closed his eyes, gulping, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It was awful, Renly. Whenever I went out reporters used to run after me and ask me if I agreed that I was frigid or that I was unattractive without my clothes on.”

He’d evidently done well with his counsellor, Renly thought, because the Loras he’d known would never have been able to swallow his pride enough to tell him all that. “Well you’re not either of those things,” he insisted. Admittedly, Loras did look better in his clothes than out of them, but he was far from unattractive. It was a strange accusation, Renly thought.

Loras said nothing to that, just staring out of the window at the street outside, lit up now by street lamps. “Is your boyfriend’s name actually _Satin?”_

Renly rolled his eyes, a little amused by the out of the blue question. “Yes it is,” he laughed. “His mother was a bit crazy apparently. As Robert would say, a bit of a chav, and probably very lucky that the social services didn’t take her kid away.” Although Satin had never explicitly said so, Renly got the feeling that she’d been a prostitute as well, though more of the sort that frequented street corners.

“Oh,” Loras said. “Must be hard to get a job with a name like that.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed, hoping to gloss over anything to do with Satin. “You’re probably right.”

“Does he have a job?”

Renly hesitated. He was faced with another dilemma here. Either he admitted that Satin was an escort and risked Loras judging him very harshly for it, or he lied and risked Loras then finding out about the lie and being offended. Perhaps worse even, if he lied, he risked Satin assuming that he was ashamed of him for what he did.

He gulped. “Yeah,” he said, “He has a job.”

“Well what does he do?”

“Um, well he er…” the rest of the sentence came out as a bit of a jumble, almost a rant as Renly found his usual eloquence failed him.

Loras looked confused at first and then he seemed to read between the lines of what Renly was saying. He cocked his head to the side, a little bewildered. “So let me get this straight,” he breathed, the cogs evidently turning in his head. “Your new boyfriend is a _prostitute?_ ”

Renly winced. “Well he prefers escort actually.”

Loras stood up, a scowl twisting across his face like a bramble. “And you’re okay with that?” he hissed. “How are you okay with that.”

“Well obviously it’s not ideal,” Renly stammered. He rose to his feet too and tried to put a steadying hand on Loras’ arm.

It was batted away quickly. “Well where’s his ultimatum then?” Loras snapped. “You were very quick to give me one. Like a bullet out of a bloody gun.”

“ _Loras-_ “

“No really,” Loras interrupted, his face flushing crimson. “How was I worse?”

“Loras, just list-”

“Just leave me alone.” Slapping Renly’s hands away again, he stalked out of the living room.

Renly just collapsed wearily back onto the sofa. He thought it best to give him his space, to let him cool off. It was only when he heard the front door slam downstairs that he realised Loras had been rather serious about Renly leaving him alone, and a little panicked, Renly leapt to his feet, wondering how on earth he was ever going to explain to Garlan that he’d managed to _lose_ Loras during the few hours that he’d been trusted to take care of him.

There was no sign of Loras on the street by the time that Renly got downstairs and out of his door, and so Renly had to resort to asking a rather shady looking man if he’d seen anyone. The answer typically was a shrug and a request for cigarettes. It was only when Renly had slipped him a tenner so that he could buy his own cigarettes that he consented to pointing Renly down the road. 

It took Renly half an hour to find him, and when he did, he didn’t know whether to approach him or not. Loras was sat on the swings at a children’s park a little over five minutes down the road and he looked utterly miserable. His shoulders were hunched like an old man’s and he was staring down at his shoes. He evidently hadn’t learnt his lesson yet and as always happened when he fled Renly’s flat- something which happened terribly often, Renly thought, he hadn’t remembered to take a coat or a jumper with him. Whether he was cold or not, Renly couldn’t tell, but the weather had certainly got the better of his hair. Whipped by the wind and dampened by rain that wasn’t quite heavy enough to be called rain, his hair had started to rebel, the wave slowly returning. It wasn’t quite curly yet, but it was halfway there.

He still hadn’t noticed Renly standing by the gate and Renly thought he should probably stop staring silently at him.

“Loras,” Renly called hesitantly, unsurprised to see Loras’ head jerk up.

Loras said nothing and so Renly pushed open the gate and went to him, his feet bouncing on the squashy surface of the playground.

“Look,” he sighed, sitting down on the swing next to him and finding it a bit of a squeeze. “You can go home if you like. I’ll call your brother for you. But it’s stupid to sit out here by yourself. It's cold and it's wet and you'll make yourself ill.”

Loras shrugged. “Sure,” he muttered. He sighed deeply, looking down at his shoes. “And it’s my fault really. I should never have come.”

Renly got back up to his feet, his hips too squashed by the chains to stay seated for any longer. “Why?” he asked. Sighing, he moved to stand beside Loras, slipping his jacket off and draping it across Loras’ shoulders. 

“Well this is your life, not mine,” Loras murmured. He made no acknowledgement of Renly giving him his jacket and kicked at the dirt irritably. “I should have stayed at home and not wasted your time.” Twisting, he looked up at Renly, searching his face in the dark. “Why did you even ask me to come anyway? Don’t you want to be with your boyfriend on a Saturday night?”

Renly sighed, leaning against one of the poles that supported the swings. “I thought it would be nice for you,” he said, “A chance for you to get out of the house. And I thought it would be fun. We’ve always got on well.”

“Not always,” Loras muttered.

“Fair,” Renly laughed, trying not to wince as he remembered some of the _particularly_ bad times, of which there were many. “Not always. But we used to, didn’t we? It’s not such a stretch of the imagination to think that we could again.”

“Suppose so,” Loras admitted. He was quiet for a long moment. “And I’m sorry, Ren. It’s none of my business really who you’re dating. I shouldn’t have got angry.”

“I can understand why you were upset,” Renly said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Do you want me to explain the difference to you? Why I don’t mind now and I did mind with you?”

Loras shrugged. “If you want, Ren. But to be honest, I don’t really care.”

Renly took a deep breath, forcing himself to be patient. “Well what you were doing was dangerous, Loras,” he said quietly. “I was worried about you. A lot if I’m honest. With Satin, I know that he’s not putting himself at risk. He’s very careful with everything he does.” There was a little more to it than that, Renly thought, for Satin wasn’t violent and unpredictable like Loras had been, and neither had he ever sought to hide anything about himself from Renly, but Renly reckoned that he’d end his explanation there. Loras, he thought, didn't need to know about the ins and outs of his current relationship.

Loras said nothing regardless. He just shrugged. “Sure,” he said shortly. “Whatever you say.”

Renly sighed, deciding it best just to give up. “Let’s go back home then,” he said softly, “and then you can decide if you want to call your brother or not.”

Loras nodded and got off the swing to follow Renly out of the park.

Loras changed his mind six times about calling Garlan on the way back to Renly’s flat. He wanted to go home, that much was quite clear, but he was being stubborn about it. Calling Garlan would mean that he had to admit that his first evening away from home had been a failure. 

“I’ll tell you what,” Renly told him. “Let’s compromise and call your brother really early first thing.” He grinned. “Think about it, you can go to bed now and you won’t even have to see me except to say goodbye tomorrow morning.”

“Sure,” Loras whispered. His tone was miserable and Renly stifled a groan. He’d been so hoping that Loras would have at least a decent time with him tonight, to give him at least a few hours that were better than being stuck at home with his parents, and yet those hopes had seemingly been dashed. Between Arya and his own choice of boyfriends, Renly reckoned that Loras would have far preferred to be at home with his parents.

“Come on then,” he sighed wearily, “Time for bed, I guess.”

Loras nodded. “I’ll go on the blow up bed.”

Renly raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No guest of mine is sleeping in the living room,” he insisted. Plugging the bed in, Renly fiddled with the slightly broken attachment until it began inflating.

“But-“

“No buts,” Renly laughed ruefully, raising a hand to silence Loras’ protests. “It’s out of the question. I promised your family I’d look after you. And that means giving you a proper bed for the night.”

Loras scowled at him. “I don’t want to be in your bedroom, Ren. I don’t belong in there anymore. Save it for the hooker.”

Renly winced. “All right,” he sighed, letting the slight towards Satin slide. “If you’re sure?” He didn't see a way out of that one.

“I’m sure.”

Nodding, Renly drew the curtains for him before leaving him in peace.

 

* * *

 

It felt strange getting into bed by himself, Renly found. He’d become used now to having Satin next to him and the bed felt cold and empty. He tossed and turned for a long while, part of him convinced that Loras would run out on him again and that he’d indeed have to explain the disaster of an evening to Garlan.

He slept uneasily when he finally drifted off, and he was woken several hours later by the sound of someone, presumably Loras, walking around in the room next door. It didn’t surprise him, and shoving his feet into slippers, Renly went to assess the situation.

The door to the living room was ajar and Renly pushed it open quietly. Loras was sitting at the far end of the room, perched on the windowsill as seemed to be his habit when he couldn’t fall asleep.

Renly padded across the room. “You all right?” he asked.

Loras startled so badly that he almost fell off the windowsill. As he swivelled to face him, Renly could see that he had a sheen of sweat across his forehead, and that his hair was sticking up oddly in strange tufts. He’d evidently just got out of bed and Renly wondered if he’d had one of the nightmares Garlan and Willas had told him about.

Despite Loras being a little rude earlier, Renly couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He supposed it was one of his weaknesses; Loras apparently still brought out the soft side in him. “Are you all right?” he repeated softly.

Loras nodded.

“Nightmare?”

Loras said nothing which in turn spoke volumes. He merely turned his face away. He didn’t flinch at Renly’s approach though and neither did he protest when Renly guided him off the windowsill and onto the sofa.

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered to Renly eventually, sitting down and closing his eyes. It was strange, Renly thought, how somebody could be so evidently tired yet still unable to sleep.

He sat down beside him. “Is it being here?” he asked. “Do you think it’s making it worse?”

“No,” Loras muttered, “I can never sleep.”

Renly almost reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Loras’ ear and hurriedly restrained himself. “Well what do you do usually when you can’t sleep?” he asked.

Loras frowned. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Nothing I guess.” He didn’t mention the fact that his mother apparently usually sat by his bedside when he couldn’t sleep. Renly didn’t really blame him; he’d never had his own mother, but even he knew that nobody would want to admit to being comforted by their mum at the grand old age of twenty-two.

“Have you got any medication you can take?”

“I’ve already taken it,” Loras sighed. He leant heavily back against the sofa. “Just go back to bed, Ren. I’m used to not sleeping; I’ll be fine.”

Renly laughed, stifling a yawn. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “Come, we’ll watch some TV or something. Sansa put the whole of Friends on my laptop a couple of weeks ago.”

“I don’t want to.”

Renly sighed heavily. “Come on, Loras. You can’t stay mad at me forever.”

“I’m not mad,” Loras said indignantly, eyes narrowing like a cat’s. “What made you think I was mad? I don’t give a fuck who you’re dating, Renly.”

He was trying to save face, that much was obvious, and yet Renly thought he was probably telling the truth in at least some respect. He probably wasn’t actually angry, Renly thought. He was hurt; he didn’t like the fact that someone who had sex for money was evidently more of a desirable partner than he and his cocaine addiction had been. It was understandable that he was hurt, Renly reckoned, and he tried to be patient with him.

“Okay then,” Renly said quietly, “Well why don’t you come and watch Friends with me and prove to me that you’re not still angry at me.”

Loras scowled. “Fine,” he muttered.

“It’ll be nice,” Renly insisted, “Come, we can sit in my bedroom for a few episodes and then you can have another go at getting back to sleep.”

Loras didn’t seem convinced. “Won’t _he_ mind me being in your bedroom?” he muttered.

Renly shrugged. “I doubt it.” Hoping to salvage at least a little of the weekend, he led Loras through to his room and set up his laptop. He tried to choose an episode with a summary that didn’t have Ross and Rachel falling in or out of love, which ruled out a good half of the episodes, he quickly found.

When he looked up, Loras was still hovering awkwardly in the doorway.

“Come on,” Renly laughed, “Relax. The bed’s not contaminated. And I’m not going to jump you or anything.”

“I’m quite aware of that,” Loras said stiffly. Biting his lip, h perched himself rather awkwardly on Renly’s bed, on the side nearest the door. He sat on top of the covers, which Renly thought was wise, and so Renly took down the blanket from on top of the wardrobe and chucked it at him.

“Here,” Renly said softly. He motioned for Loras to shift forward a little, and shoved a pillow behind him so that he didn’t have to lean against the hard headboard. “We’ll just watch a few episodes and then you can go and try to get back to sleep.” That way, he thought, the night would perhaps not be a complete failure; they’d have spent at least a few minutes in each other’s company without it being painfully awkward.

“Okay,” Loras mumbled.

They fell into silence after that, one which Renly hoped wasn’t too uncomfortable, both of them watching the screen with tired eyes. They were an episode in before either of them spoke, and to Renly’s surprise, it was Loras who dared.

“Renly,” he breathed, looking up at him. “Does your boyfriend actually look like me?”

Renly paused, rubbing his eyes wearily. “I guess he does a bit,” he admitted reluctantly. “Mainly it’s just the hair. He’s got curls too, but my colour. I guess you look a lot more like him now that you’re not blond.”

“All right,” Loras said quietly. “But I’m guessing that apart from the looks he’s not anything like me at all?”

“Personality wise?” Renly asked, wondering what answer Loras was hoping for here. He decided to answer honestly. “No he’s not,” he told him. They really weren’t, he thought to himself privately. Loras lived fast, never looking before he leapt, whereas Satin went at a slower sort of pace. Where Loras left a trail of destruction behind him, Satin was quiet, considerate, always thinking before he acted. They looked like two peas in a pod, but they couldn’t have been more different.

“And is it well, um, serious between you two?” There was a casual edge to Loras’ voice that was so obviously feigned it was painful, and his eyes were wide, a thinly veiled hope in his expression.

Renly stiffened uncomfortably. He knew where that question usually led, and it certainly wasn’t a place he wanted to go. It wasn’t a question that he knew the answer to either. He liked Satin, that much was clear, but he knew that if he ever stopped to properly think about it, he’d realise that there were a fair few obstacles in it ever becoming very serious. Satin’s job was one, but more importantly it was Satin’s plan to go to university. Satin could give up the job, Renly knew, but there was no way round those long three years that he’d spend at uni, regardless of whether he succeeded in deferring a year like he wanted to.

“Borderline serious maybe?” he laughed a little nervously. “He’s only your age. Practically a baby really. A bit of an awkward age for settling down permanently. But yeah, I’d like it to be serious.”

Loras didn’t seem to know what to make of that answer. He cocked his head slightly, chewing on his bottom lip. “So serious then?”

Renly resisted the urge to sigh. Loras, it seemed, could only work in black and white. “Yes,” he said. “It is serious.” That wasn’t true or untrue, Renly mused, but it was the answer that he thought Loras needed to hear. It was better than giving him the impression that he and Satin were just a fling. 

Loras looked down at his hands. “Then why am I here, Renly?” he breathed, talking to his knees more than to Renly himself.

Renly shifted uncomfortably. “I already told you,” he said slowly, wishing Loras would look at him. “I invited you because I thought it would be nice. For both of us.”

“So,” Loras whispered. “We’re going to be, like, _friends?”_

Renly gestured to his laptop. “Well hopefully not like any of that lot,” he said with a forced grin. It was a poor attempt at humour and Renly was unsurprised to see that Loras didn’t even try to feign a smile in response. Instead he just sat there, inspecting his fingernails.

“Yes,” Renly said eventually, “I thought we could be friends.”

Loras finally looked up at him then, his face rather strained. “I don’t think I want to be friends,” he whispered.

Renly tried not to wince. This, he thought, was the place he most certainly hadn’t wanted to go. “Well why not?” he prompted, his chest oddly tight.

“Well we were never friends before, Ren.” He looked down at his hands again. “And I know you won’t do, but well, I still think about you sometimes, _occasionally_ , like that.”

“Really?” Renly sighed. “After all this time?”

Loras’ face crumpled. “I guess not,” he mumbled.

Renly felt awful then and he shifted a little closer. “It’s all right,” he whispered, placing a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean to say that. You’re allowed to feel however you want to feel.”

“I don’t _want_ to feel like that,” Loras breathed, eyes wide again, like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Well, what do you want?” Renly asked quietly.

Loras was silent for a long time, staring down at Renly’s hand that was still rested on his arm. “To go home,” he said eventually.

“All right,” Renly murmured. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was half past four. “Well we’ll call Garlan in the morning, and you don’t have to come again if you don’t want to.”

Loras nodded and sniffing, he pushed Renly’s hand off his arm. “I think I’m ready to go back to sleep now,” he whispered, getting off the bed. “Feel kinda tired now.”

“Sure,” Renly agreed. Somehow he doubted that Loras would have any luck at getting to sleep but he didn’t argue. He thought that it was for the best that they parted for the evening, possibly even for good. It was a strange thought, Renly found, regardless of the fact that they’d essentially parted for good once before.

“Loras,” he called as Loras was halfway through the doorway. “Thanks for being honest with me. It must have been really hard to do that.”

Loras turned back only briefly before shutting Renly’s bedroom door behind him.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that this is an exceedingly short chapter. The chapter split just worked out like that I'm afraid.

Loras was still in the living room when Renly got up the next morning, and the door was firmly shut. It was only after hovering rather apprehensively outside it for a few moments that Renly finally summoned the courage to knock, and even then he was sweating rather anxiously as he waited for it to swing open- which was perhaps a good thing, Renly reckoned, for clammy palms were definitely conducive to helping Loras get over him.

It seemed an age before Loras responded to his knocking, and when he did, he looked just as uncomfortable as Renly felt. Fully dressed in jeans and rather unflatteringly baggy shirt that had evidently been chosen for the sole purpose of hiding his thin frame, he looked dreadful, Renly thought, with dark bags under his eyes and a terribly pale complexion. Renly supposed that this is what someone looked like when they’d failed to get any sleep at all.

“Hey,” he breathed softly, trying not to stare too much.

“Hey.”

Renly hadn’t thought much past the greetings, and they stood there opposite each other awkwardly, neither of them daring to meet the other’s eye. It was painful, Renly thought, and he resisted the urge not to sigh audibly.

“Have you called your brother?” Renly asked eventually, forcing himself to do Loras the courtesy of looking at him.

Loras nodded rather stiffly. “About half an hour ago,” he said. “He should be here soon.”

Renly tried not to let the relief on his face show. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as hard as it could have been, for above everything, even above the relief, Renly supposed that he was disappointed, disappointed in quite how poorly yesterday had gone.

“All right,” he said. “Well I’m going to go have breakfast. Fancy anything? Coffee maybe?” He knew better than to bother insisting that Loras eat breakfast. Not once in all the time they’d dated had he ever seen Loras deign to eat anything before midday.

Loras nodded at the offer of coffee though, and he consented to follow Renly down the landing to the kitchen. He was very quiet though, unnervingly quiet, Renly thought, and when they reached the kitchen he seemed reluctant to sit down, instead hanging back in the doorway.

It was rather off-putting, Renly found, and he tried to busy himself making coffee, getting out his nicer mugs for once as if that might go some way to salvaging the weekend.

Loras apparently relaxed a little as soon as Renly’s back was turned, for it was only then that he dared to speak.

“Um Renly,” he said, his voice rather meek. “Can I have a word with you?”

“Course you can,” Renly laughed, flipping the kettle switch on.

“Well I’ve changed my mind,” Loras muttered. “I guess we could try to be friends.”

Renly was glad his back was turned, for his expression surely would have betrayed that he thought that that was a very unwise idea. Being friends with an ex was one thing, he reckoned, but it was a whole different ball game when the ex in question had admitted to still having feelings for you. That situation was doomed to be messy, Renly thought, people’s feelings inevitably got hurt, _Loras’_ feelings would inevitably get hurt.

Biting back a sigh, Renly wondered how best to tell Loras that, without offending him.

“Well what changed your mind?” he asked quietly, spooning coffee into both of the mugs but sugar into only one. Old habits apparently died hard.

“I dunno,” Loras mumbled. “Guess I figured that it might be, well, nice, being friends.”

Renly sighed heavily, turning to face him and sinking down into a chair. He placed both mugs on the table, nudging the sugarless one in Loras’ direction. “Do you actually think that?” he asked earnestly.

Loras shrugged, staring a little sullenly down at the floor. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “I was being pessimistic yesterday.”

Renly paused, feeling suddenly very weary, as if he was the one who’d had an entirely sleepless night. “Come here, Loras,” he said eventually. “Come sit with me.”

Very reluctantly, Loras moved from the doorway and sat down. Studying his face, Renly was saddened to see that he looked almost nervous. He was chewing his lip like it was made of toffee and he was fidgety, clearly on edge and clearly uncomfortable.

“Do you actually think that?” Renly breathed. “That being friends is a good idea?”

Loras shrugged. “Yes,” he mumbled. He reached out rather half-heartedly for his mug of coffee, sipping it even though it must have been scalding with no milk in it to cool it.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think that last night,” he pointed out. “In fact, I distinctly remember you telling me the exact opposite.

“Well I slept on it,” Loras insisted quietly, daring to look Renly in the eye. “And I think this way will be better.”

“Well I’m not sure you’re right,” Renly told him with a sigh. “Truth be told, I think it might be better if we weren’t friends, not with you feeling like you do. It’ll just make you miserable.”

Loras shrugged again. “I’m already miserable,” he said bluntly. He took another sip of his coffee.

Renly frowned. “Don’t say that, Loras,” he protested.

“But it’s true,” Loras muttered.

Renly sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But I don’t want you to be miserable forever. I want you to get better, to find someone who’ll be better for you than I was.” He touched Loras’ arm, trying to make him see sense. “I know it’s a hard truth to swallow, for both of us really, but you’ll feel better in the long run I think if we don’t see each other.”

Loras looked pained at that. “But I won’t,” he said, the first beginnings of a scowl on his face. “I didn’t see you for like ten months and I didn’t feel any better for it at all.”

Renly sighed. He didn’t know what to say to that. “Well why don’t we take each day as it comes,” he said a little lamely. He supposed it wasn’t his place to make Loras’ decisions for him; Loras had to learn to make the right ones by himself.

Loras didn’t exactly look happy at that, but at least he wasn’t scowling anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well it’s obvious really,” Satin told him later that day as they made lunch, several hours after Loras had gone home.

“Is it?” Renly asked wearily, pouring olive oil into the frying pan rather generously. “To me it’s all a little bit confusing. I mean, why would he tell me that he didn’t want to be friends yesterday and then change his mind today? It’s not obvious at all to me.”

“Well,” Satin sighed, looking up from where he was dicing peppers. “I imagine that yesterday, he told you that he didn’t want to be friends in the hope that you’d agree with him.”

“Oh," Renly said. Tipping onions and garlic into the pan, Renly considered that.

“And when you didn’t agree, he had to backtrack and take what was available.”

Renly considered that too. “But I told him clearly really that I’m not interested. Why would he possibly want to be my friend when we both know that’s going to be painful for him.”

Satin sighed heavily, looking up again. “Because this way, he gets to wait in the wings,” he said quietly. “You’re right in that being ‘just friends’ with you won’t be particularly nice for him, but he clearly loves you and he’s clearly desperate, Renly. The only option _left_ to him is to hang around and hope that you’ll change your mind.”

Sometimes, Renly decided he didn’t like how much sense Satin made. “Well that’s just stupid,” he said.

Satin smiled at that, shaking his head a little fondly. “I’ve heard stupider things.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, dropping the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir and turning round to face Satin properly. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

Satin laughed at his expression. “Nothing, Renly,” he said, going back to his chopping board.

“No, not nothing,” Renly protested. He turned the gas down slightly and moved to stand beside Satin. “Now come on, spill. Or...” He tried to think of a decent threat.

“Or what?” Satin asked slyly, looking up at him through his curls.

“Or… I shall sit on you,” Renly decided. “And I warn you, I’m heavier than I look.”

Satin just raised an eyebrow at that and so Renly sank down onto him, using him as a chair. He relished the gasp that his weight provoked and grinned even though Satin couldn’t see him, lifting his feet off the floor to make himself heavier.

“Now will you tell me?” he laughed, shifting to get comfortable.

“Fine,” Satin laughed. “But get off me first. I can barely breathe.”

“Gladly,” Renly said, getting to his feet and leaning against the table. “Now tell me what you meant.” Glancing quickly over at the frying pan to make sure nothing was burning, he settled back to listen.

“Fine,” Satin sighed, picking his knife back up and returning to his chopping once more. “But promise you’ll hear me out? And not get all upset?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said.

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong,” Satin started, “but as far as I was aware, when you and Loras were going out, the two of you got on quite well right?”

“Yeah course we did,” Renly said, shrugging. “I wouldn’t have dated him for seven months if we hadn’t.”

“And everything was fine? You were happy?”

“Yes.”

“And you only broke up because of his cocaine addiction?”

Renly paused. “I suppose,” he admitted, “because of the addiction and everything that came with it. Mainly the fact that he refused to get help.”

“And now he’s got help and he’s broken that addiction?”

“Yes.”

Satin smiled at him, getting up to tip his pepper into the frying pan. “And there,” he laughed, “Is my case.”

Renly frowned, biting back a sigh. He saw what Satin was getting at and it made him feel really rather uncomfortable. He supposed that if you looked at it like that, in almost black and white terms, the two of them getting back together didn’t sound as stupid as his instinct told him it was. He supposed that Satin could have no real notion of quite how terrible those last few weeks he and Loras had spent together had been, how bitter everything had been.

“But things are different now,” he protested. “I’ve moved on. I’ve got you.”

Satin smiled. “That you have,” he agreed. “But things change, Renly. Things always change, and that, I imagine, is what he’s counting on.”

Renly could find nothing to say to that.


	42. Chapter 42

Renly thought very little of Satin’s words until a week later, when lying in Satin’s too small bed on one of the rare weekends that they spent at Satin’s, a rather important letter arrived through Satin’s letterbox that afternoon. It was post-marked Edinburgh and it was with a little trepidation that Satin brought it back to bed with him. 

“Well it’s quite thick,” Renly laughed as Satin turned it over thoughtfully in his hands. “That’s always a good sign. Rejection letters tend to be rather short and sweet.” Not that he would know, Renly thought privately to himself; he couldn't remember even once receiving a rejection letter. 

“Mmm,” Satin agreed. “They do. Not much to say in them, I suppose.”

Renly yawned and leant back against Satin’s headboard, feeling the cheap Ikea wood bend under his weight. “Don’t you check your UCAS Track?” he asked.

“Not often enough apparently,” Satin laughed. “Not since Sussex rejected me last week. It was a little disheartening you see.”

Renly smiled. “Well I admire your restraint,” he told him. “When I was applying I went a little mental. I reckon I checked it on the hour every hour.”

“Well that would be stressful,” Satin said quietly.

“It _was_ stressful,” Renly agreed. He leant over Satin’s shoulder. “But you know what’s also stressful? Watching you sit here and stare at this letter. Open it won’t you?”

“Sure,” Satin murmured. Very carefully, he ripped open the letter and Renly relaxed back against the headboard again, not liking to intrude. He did debate about getting up and making some coffee, just to give Satin a little privacy, and yet his curiosity got the better of him. He couldn’t help but study Satin’s face, searching his expression as the letter was unfolded.

Satin read it for a good few minutes, his expression surprisingly calm, and Renly felt his patience slowly ebb away as he watched him. He wouldn’t have been able to have been that patient in a million years, he knew. He’d have ripped the envelope into virtual shreds in his haste to open it, and then he’d have skim-read as quickly as he’d physically been able.

“So?” he asked, aching to tear the letter out of Satin’s hands. “Am I losing you to Aberystwyth or Edinburgh?”

Satin laughed quietly, glancing briefly up. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Well how can you not know?” Renly whined. “The letter is in your hands. If it takes you that long to read it, you probably shouldn’t be going to university in the first place.”

Satin just smiled at that, returning to reading his letter. He didn't rise to the bait, and Renly had long learnt that Satin never rose to the bait. 

“ _Well?”_ Renly prompted.

Satin sighed heavily, placing the letter finally on the bedside table. “Well Edinburgh’s accepted me, but they’ve refused to let me defer the year. Aberystwyth on the other hand says I can.” He paused, glancing contemplatively at the ceiling. “I’d rather go to Edinburgh, but I can’t really afford to without having the extra year to save a little more. So it may have to be Aberystwyth.”

“Oh,” Renly said. Selfishly, he rather hoped that Satin chose to go to Aberystwyth so that he wouldn’t be left suddenly by himself, and yet on the other hand, he didn’t like the idea that Satin would lose out on going to the university of his choice simply because he didn’t have enough money. “Well how long have you got to decide?” he asked.

“Till the fifth of June,” Satin sighed. “So a while.”

 

* * *

 

 

Satin was halfway through his fifth of June deadline by the time that Loras got in contact with Renly again. It was only a text, and yet it struck fear into Renly all the same. He had no idea what to reply, or if he even ought to reply, and after half an hour of pacing anxiously around his kitchen, he called Sansa.

They met at Renly’s local pub, and Sansa grabbed them a booth near the window where she could see the cherry trees that lined the road outside. Renly meanwhile grabbed them both drinks, a beer for him and a sickeningly sweet berry cider for her.

“So what did he say?” she asked once Renly had brought their drinks over. They were set enough into their routine now that she didn’t bother offering to pay for her half, and Renly didn’t bother suggesting it either. It was a well-known fact that he always paid. Mainly because he had more money, but also because Sansa was one of those girls who was adamant that paying was the man's job and because Renly had quickly found that being gay didn't excuse him from that. 

“Well it was really vague,” Renly sighed, taking a long drink. “Just asked me if I wanted to meet up sometime. No suggested date, so I can’t exactly say I’m busy.”

With a flick of her wrist, Sansa pulled her hair off her face and tied it up. It was a definite sign that she was putting her thinking cap on. “Well let’s assess your options,” she said contemplatively.

“ _Options?_ ” Renly groaned. “The only sensible option would be to refuse to see him, and that will upset him so much. And I don’t want to be the guy that makes him miserable when he’s already having such a hard time.” He had a little fear that Margaery might hunt him down if he did that, and maybe even Garlan too. And whilst Renly imagined that Garlan was usually more of a gentle giant type, he reckoned that he could certainly pack a decent punch if the occasion arose.

“I’m in agreement that there’s no _sensible_ option,” Sansa admitted. “But we just have to work with what we’ve got. We need to find the safest option for you guys, make the best of a bad situation.”

Renly nodded, running a hand through hair that he’d forgotten to brush for once this morning. “Well how do we do that?” he asked. "Without Loras suddenly realising that us being friends is the worst idea he's possibly ever had. Including dating Taylor Swift."

Sansa raised an eyebrow. “Well definitely no overnight stay this time. That was always going to end badly, Renly.”

“It was a bad call,” Renly agreed, wincing as he thought back to just quite how awkward it had been. He picked up his drink again, contemplating the situation. “You know,” he said, “if it were anyone else but Loras, I’d suggest some kind of group situation, so that I could try and avoid being alone with him, but in the state he is now I wonder if he’d just feel anxious and left out.” He sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands. “I mean, he was uncomfortable enough with me; I dread to think what he’d be like with anyone else.”

Sansa paused, playing with her ponytail. “Do you never think that he’d actually be more uncomfortable with you than with anyone else?”

Renly considered that. He supposed it was possible, but he was inclined to disagree. Garlan had told him explicitly that Loras was anxious about venturing out, and Renly had rather got the feeling that Loras had felt rather safe with him in his flat, or at least he had done until the subject of Satin had come up. It was an environment that was familiar to him, that he knew well.

“I don’t think so,” he told her. “I mean yes, it’s a little awkward, but when all’s said and done we were together for what was essentially quite a long time. We used to walk around in front of each other naked and we’ve slept together more times than I can count. That sort of trust doesn’t just disappear overnight does it?”

Sansa shrugged, chewing her lip like Arya often did. “I guess not,” she mused. “So just the two of you then. Well what about something in public? It’d still be just the two of you really, just surrounded by strangers, and it’s really hard to have awkward meaningful conversations when you’re at the zoo, say, or the aquarium.”

“True,” Renly admitted, draining his drink. It would be a relief, he reckoned, to not have to be shut up in his flat trying to make painful conversation. “But you know, he hasn’t been out in public since February. I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“Well ask him,” she said simply. “He’s the only one who knows what he’s comfortable with.”

“Well what about what _I’m_ confident with?” Renly lamented. All the same though, he slipped his phone out of his pocket to text him.

He kept it simple, just saying that it would be nice indeed to meet up sometime. He didn’t mention the fact that he and Sansa had ruled out him staying overnight this time; somehow, Renly reckoned that Loras wouldn’t be too keen to have a repeat of that last weekend either.

“Want to head back?” he asked Sansa when he was done. “I’ve got leftover pizza in the fridge that really needs eating.”

Sansa frowned. “Leftovers?” she questioned, “Well that’s something new for you.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Just come won’t you.”

 

* * *

 

“So I was thinking of trying botox,” Renly told her as they reached his road, huddling under Sansa’s pink polka-dot umbrella out of the rain. He'd never looked more camp, Renly reckoned, and yet it was better than getting wet. 

“Botox? Really?” Sansa didn’t look surprised exactly, but there was a definite curiosity there.

“Yeah,” Renly admitted, stooping again when one of the umbrella spokes poked him in the back of the head for the sixth time. The sensible option would have been to hold the pink polka-dot umbrella himself, but he thought that a step too far. “Just a little bit," he added. "Just to look a bit more youthful.”

“But you don’t even have any lines except when you smile, and those are nice," Sansa laughed, "You wouldn’t want to get rid of those. You’d look like Stannis. ”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn’t tell her that Loras had said exactly the same thing, minus the Stannis part, for Loras, thankfully, had never had the pleasure of meeting either of his brothers. “It’s a pre-emptive measure,” he told her firmly. “And there’s this clinic down the road from work actually. I could have it done in my lunch hour.” He smiled hopefully at her. “Actually,” he added, “I was hoping you might come with me. For moral support.”

Sansa said nothing to that, which was strange, Renly thought, for Sansa always had something to say. He glanced sideways at her, wondering what the matter was.

“Earth to Sansa?” he laughed, taking the umbrella from her and bumping it on the head with it. 

She didn't even react. “Had you realised there was a _For Sale_ sign outside your flat?” she asked flatly.

Startling, Renly followed her gaze, and sure enough, the offending blue sign was planted in the front garden of the guy who lived downstairs, amongst the slightly overgrown plants. He certainly hadn't noticed it being there before, and a little anxiously, he wondered how many times he'd walked past it obliviously this week. Knowing him, it had probably been more than a few times. 

“Maybe it’s just for the downstairs flat,” he told her, in an attempt to reassure himself more than anything.

She shook her head. “It’s for both,” she said, “it says on it. Did you know your landlord was planning on selling up?”

“News to me,” Renly groaned, pushing a hand through his hair and handing her back her umbrella. 

“Well what are you going to do?”

“Well that is a really good question,” Renly laughed hollowly, staring in the horror at the bright blue sign that stood outside what had been his home for almost six years. “My landlord has to give me two months’ notice by law. And then I’ll have to find a new place, I guess.” It was an odd prospect to contemplate. Aside from Stannis’ townhouse where he’d grown up and his halls at university, he’d never lived anywhere else.

“Couldn’t you move in with Satin?” she said quietly, leading him firmly up the front path.

Renly said nothing. He just let her lead him up to his front door and handed her his keys whilst he thought. He didn’t think that living in Satin’s flat with him was really a viable idea. For one, he didn’t think either of them would really want that, and two, they both wouldn’t fit in the cupboard that Satin called home. 

“I don’t think that’s an option,” he sighed as they climbed the stairs. “And to be honest, I think we’re both happy with how things are at the moment.” He sighed heavily. “Can we just not talk about it for a minute? I need to collect my thoughts.” 

“Sure,” she said. “How’s it going then? How does Satin feel about you seeing Loras?”

“He’s surprisingly okay about it actually,” Renly admitted, glad for the change of subject. He didn’t admit that part of him was disappointed about Satin being surprisingly okay with it, for if Satin had kicked up a fuss, he’d have had a half decent reason to put to Loras as to why they couldn’t be friends. “Which seems stupid to me, but I guess there’s no reason for him to feel threatened actually. Loras isn’t even allowed to date even if I wanted to date him."  
  
"Which you definitely don't?"

"Which I definitely don’t,” Renly repeated. That, he wanted to be clear on.

“Good,” Sansa said, “Because that would be a disaster. We got you back up on your feet once after breaking up with him. I’m not sure we could do it again.”

Renly said nothing to that. He didn’t like to think back on what he now thought of as the ‘post-Loras’ period of his life. It hadn’t been the most pleasant of times and it was characterized by a lot of take-aways and mornings where he hadn’t bothered to get out of bed. More poignantly perhaps, it had seemed to stretch on forever. It had been months and months, it seemed, before he'd got laid after splitting up with Loras. He hadn't been himself; he'd been someone very boring who hadn't even wanted to leave the house.  

“So you’re happy with Satin?” Sansa pressed, sitting down at his kitchen table.

“Yeah,” Renly said. “I am. He’s definitely the _nicest_ guy I’ve ever dated.” He smiled. “And he’s _almost_ the most attractive too.” Loras, he was afraid to say, did just pip Satin to the post in that particular category. Similar as they were, Loras was the more attractive of the two, if not by much. 

“And what have you agreed about his plans for university? Do you know if he’s going this year or not?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He thought he'd rather talk about the blue _For Sale_ sign outside his house than this. Regardless, he humoured her. “Not yet,” he sighed, “He’s got till the beginning of June remember.”

Sansa nodded sympathetically. “And what’s his choice between? You never told me.”

“Aberystwyth and Edinburgh.”

Sansa broke into a smile at that. “You know my brother Jon’s at Edinburgh,” she laughed, “Satin should totally go there. Jon really loves it there. There's loads of cool societies, and he's gone on all of these awesome excursions to different parts of Scotland.” She winked. "He's even got laid, which Robb thought would _never_ happen."

“Great,” Renly muttered, “Edinburgh’s the one which would mean he goes this year.”

“In which case Jon really hates it there,” Sansa said hurriedly. “It’s really cold and he has this professor who hates him apparently. Tells him his essays are rubbish even though he's like the best on the course.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to try and influence his decision, Sansa. So you can save the rant about how rubbish Edinburgh is.” He sighed, not even sure how he felt about Satin potentially relocating six hundred miles north. “Maybe seeing as I’m being kicked out of my flat I should go and live there with him. Get a little igloo someone.”

Sansa laughed, shaking her head. “It’ll be fine,” she said, “Don't worry about the flat. It’s not that hard to find somewhere to rent in London. If worst comes to the worst and you can't find anywhere, you can come live with Arya and I.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed, leaning his head on the table. He didn't tell her that he'd rather live in the igloo in Scotland than live with her and Arya. “But I don’t want to move," he told her more diplomatically. "I love my flat. I love this area, I love everything about it.”

“Well then buy it,” she shrugged. "It's apparently for sale after all."

 Renly lifted his head at that, contemplating what she'd said. Surprisingly, it wasn't without merit. 

“I guess I could actually,” he mused. “I hadn’t thought of that.” It would feel odd, he reckoned, to stop renting and actually buy, like he would have grown up somehow and quitted Neverland for good. But he supposed that getting on the property ladder was always a good thing. It was what Stannis was always telling him to do anyhow, and everyone knew that Stannis was always sensible.

“Well how much do you think it's on the market for?” Sansa asked. “A few hundred thousand?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. Sansa, apparently, was just as clueless about money as Loras had been. He supposed it was easy enough to be like that though when daddy paid a large chunk of the rent whenever either she or Arya came up short. Ned Stark, Renly knew, was a very sensible man, who had planned for both his daughters to learn to support themselves. But with Arya working in a garage and Sansa working barely part time as a model, his plans didn’t seem to have come quite to fruition.

“A few hundred thousand might buy you a parking space round here,” Renly laughed. “But nothing considerably bigger.”

Sansa merely raised an eyebrow. “So how much then?” she asked coolly, pulling her ponytail loose and playing with the strands that fell around her face.

Renly shrugged. “In Pimlico? About eight hundred thousand probably. _At least_.” Quite how London house prices had got that high, he wasn’t sure, but he was well aware of what they were and that was sky-high.

Sansa seemed unfazed and she laughed. “Well I used to do your pay slips, you could afford that right?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yeah I could,” he admitted. He could afford that rather easily actually.

Sansa smiled. “Do you think Satin has any inkling that you’re so rich?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well he knows that money isn’t so much of an issue, and to be fair, I’m not that rich. Not considering that I’m from a fairly wealthy family and both my parents are dead.” He did have to wonder though if Satin would be surprised to learn that he was more than just comfortable. He and Satin didn’t often talk about money, mainly because the gap between them was so large, Renly reckoned. He and Loras hadn’t talked about money either, but that had been because Loras had so much of the stuff that he hadn’t been remotely interested in it, nor had he had any real notion of its value.

Loras on his mind, he fumbled for his phone, heart sinking to see he already had a reply from him. Loras apparently was serious about them meeting up.

Sansa saw him looking. “What does he say?” she asked.

Renly reread the text. “Well, reading between his very vague and defensive lines, he says that he’d rather not go out, but that he will if I really want to as long as we go someplace quiet.”

“Well that’s everywhere in London out,” Sansa said dryly.

Renly just sighed. He put his head in his hands. “I don’t want to have to see him, Sansa,” he mumbled. “It’s painful. He was always so… I don’t know, _fierce_ I guess, and now he quivers like a leaf at the thought of going out. If you'd told me a year and a half ago that he'd be an anxious and depressed and practically having a nervous breakdown, I wouldn't have believed you."

Sansa was very quiet at that. She merely placed a hand on Renly’s arm a little sympathetically.

“Renly,” she breathed. “If I ask you a question will you answer it honestly?”

Renly frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Yes?” he said reluctantly.

Sansa didn’t speak immediately, though she did look at Renly rather intently, large blue eyes searching his face. “Do you still love him, Renly?” she asked.

Renly had to fight not to scowl at her. “What do you mean by that?” he snapped. He'd thought he and Sansa were long past this. That sort of question belonged in the dreaded 'post-Loras' phase.

“Well you said it yourself, Renly,” she said calmly, “feelings don’t disappear overnight.”

Renly sighed heavily, wondering why anything he said seemed to come back to bite him nowadays. “Yeah they don’t,” he agreed, “And if you asked me if I still cared about him, I’d have told you that I do. You're right, I didn't start not giving a shit about him just because we split up."

"You didn't?"

Renly shrugged, "Course I didn't," he mumbled. "For a long time he was everything to me, and seeing him upset now still upsets me.” He paused, running a hand wearily through his hair. “I care about him a lot, Sansa but I don’t _love_ him. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

She nodded. “Good,” she said softly. "Because I think that's for the best."


	43. Chapter 43

Sansa had been joking when she’d suggested avoiding London, but in the end, Renly followed the piece of advice anyway. He and Loras arranged to have an afternoon out a good sixty miles from London, in Canterbury, which wasn’t too far from Loras’ family home. Much quieter and less-paparazzi-filled than London, Loras seemed much more willing to venture out in public there, and yet he’d still insisted on Renly telling absolutely nobody where they were planning on going. That was fair enough, Renly supposed, and so whenever Sansa or Satin showed any interest, he told a small white lie and said that they hadn’t decided where they were going yet.

Renly was to pick him up en route, and he was ashamed to admit that he still felt more than a little apprehensive about the whole idea of him and Loras trying to be friends. He fretted about it the entire trip there, unable to stop himself from drumming his fingers anxiously against the dashboard.

He felt a tiny bit better when he’d pulled up on Highgarden’s drive and saw Loras come out to join him though, purely perhaps because he was well aware that nothing could possibly be as bad as the nightmarish scenarios he had cooked up on the journey here.

“Hey,” Renly laughed as Loras got into the passenger seat beside him. “You still up for going out then?” Shameful as it was, Renly still harbored some hope that Loras would have changed his mind about the two of them meeting up.

Loras nodded though. “Yeah,” he said, turning to face Renly. “It’ll be fine.”

Renly smiled at him, pleased to see that he looked a little better than when he’d last seen him. His hair was still straight and still dark, but aside from that, he looked rather a bit more like he had when they’d been dating. He had a little bit more colour in his cheeks and he actually smiled back at Renly for once.

He was even rather talkative, and once they were out of Highgarden’s rather extensive grounds, he tapped Renly rather urgently on the arm.

“Ren,” he said, “Can we stop at the village quickly. I want to go to the shop.”

“Sure we can,” Renly smiled. He was quite pleased that Loras was showing any enthusiasm for anything if he was honest, and following the signposts for what he assumed was the village Loras was talking about, he pulled up outside the nearest newsagents he saw.

Loras hopped out rather quickly, and Renly briefly wondered whether he should go after him to supervise, before deciding that it was very unlikely that the shop sold crack cocaine.

Loras wasn’t gone long, and he didn’t appear to have anything to show for his trip inside when he came back.

“Well what did you buy?” Renly asked, curious more than anything.

Loras gave him a rather sheepish look. “Cigarettes,” he admitted. “Don’t judge me.”

Renly raised an eyebrow and reset the sat-nav. “Are you supposed to have given them up then?”

“Yeah,” Loras sighed, “Everything that I enjoy is apparently not allowed now. I could make whole lists of things that I’m advised to steer clear of. But they’ll never know if I have a couple now.”

Renly knew it was irresponsible of him but he couldn’t find it in him to scold Loras, not over a few fags. “You should get yourself one of those e-cigarettes,” he chuckled. “You can get flavours and everything, but like shisha. _I’m_ almost tempted.”

“Yeah I might get one,” Loras agreed. He yawned. “But right now I’m going for convenience.” He slipped the packet that he’d bought out of his jeans pocket, along with a lighter. “Do you mind?” he asked.

“Nah,” Renly laughed, “Just make sure you open the window.”

Loras didn’t waste any time now that he’d got Renly’s permission, and he quickly rolled down the window and lit his cigarette. The sigh he let out was audible and Renly had to laugh. It was like seeing Sansa take her first bite of chocolate after being on a diet for several weeks. 

“Good huh?” he asked.

“So good,” Loras groaned, and glancing sideways, Renly could see the expression of bliss on his face. If Renly hadn’t known better, he’d have thought there was a hidden person crouched down between Loras’ legs giving him head or something. He dreaded to think how happy he’d have looked if it had been cocaine instead of nicotine.

“You ever used to smoke?” Loras asked, once he’d apparently satisfied his cravings enough to remember how to speak.

Renly laughed. “Yeah, actually. When I was a teenager. Just to piss off my brother really. It drove him up the wall. I used to smoke out my bedroom window when I knew he was in the back garden and could see.” 

“Very sly,” Loras said.

Renly just grinned, taking a hand off the steering wheel to give Loras’ shoulder a rather hefty nudge.

 

* * *

 

 

It only took them half an hour to get to Canterbury, and it hadn’t escaped Renly’s notice that Loras had got quieter and quieter the nearer they’d got to having to leave the safety and privacy of the car. Indeed, by the time that Renly had parked, Loras was silent next to him, fidgeting as he moved onto what was his third cigarette in the past fifteen minutes.

“All right,” Renly said as cheerfully as he could manage, “We getting out then?”

Loras nodded, and yet all the same, Renly got the feeling that he’d have been much happier just staying in the car.

He didn’t make any attempt to move even when Renly had got out himself, and so Renly went round to his side and opened the passenger side for him. For a laugh, he bowed, pleased to see that it made Loras smile.

“Come on,” Renly laughed, taking Loras by both wrists and trying to heave him to his feet. “Nobody will even recognise you, I promise. You look really different nowadays.”

That didn’t seem to placate Loras much; he frowned at Renly’s words. “Good different?” he asked.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said, “The darker hair suits you. I think it’ll be nice when you can have it curly again, but it’s definitely not bad different.”

Loras nodded and consented to get to his feet of his own accord. “Okay, so you don’t think I should go blond again?” He shut the car door behind him.

“No,” Renly said, “I won’t touch but I bet your hair feels nicer for it too. Less bleach involved.” Locking the car, he gestured for Loras to follow him.

“Yeah,” Loras mused, insisting on walking cautiously behind Renly instead of beside him. “It does. It’s less frizzy.”

“Well there you go then,” Renly laughed. Stopping, he then turned round and yanked Loras to his side. “Now if you don’t want to draw attention to yourself you’d better start walking like a normal human being.”

Loras narrowed his eyes at that, but he did at least stop skulking in Renly’s shadow, and that, Renly thought, was a definite achievement.

He improved with time too, Renly saw. By the time that several people had walked past them and not done double takes or got their phones out, Loras seemed to relax considerably. He still stayed rather close to Renly’s side, as if he were frightened of the two of them being separated in the crowd or something, but otherwise, Renly wouldn’t have known that he was at all anxious or nervous about being outside.

It helped, Renly reckoned, that there was plenty to see. Famously pretty, Canterbury didn’t disappoint; it was a mass of cobblestones, quintessentially English pubs and quirky individual shops, several with bunting across their windows. Even the weather was on their side, for the moment at least, and what could have been a very blustery late-May afternoon was actually rather sunny.

“You want to see the cathedral?” Renly asked, once they’d wandered around a little and he’d bought several doughnuts from a very overpriced street vendor. He didn’t particularly want to, but going to Canterbury and not seeing the cathedral was like going to Paris and not seeing the Eiffel Tower.

Loras paused, mirroring Renly in looking up at the cathedral spire which dominated the skyline. “I suppose we should…” he said. He didn’t sound at all enthusiastic either.

“It’s all right,” Renly laughed, a little relieved by his tone. “I really can’t be bothered either. I mean it’s just a church, and we can see half of it from here already.”

Loras seemed to agree, and instead they walked down by the river, admiring the view and chucking left over pieces from Renly’s second batch of doughnuts to the swans. The weather unfortunately was beginning to go, large clouds beginning to roll in from the west, and yet it was still rather pleasant.

They’d been walking for about five minutes when Renly saw something that made him smile. Just ahead of them was a place hiring out boats- all sorts of small boats really, from the tiniest of pedalos to slightly fancier kayak type things. What really caught his eye though were the punts. Made of wood and propelled along by a long pole that you pushed against the river bed, they took Renly immediately back to his university days.

“Want to go punting?” he asked, resisting the urge to tug on Loras’ sleeve like the excited child inside him wanted to.

Loras studied them for a while before he shrugged. “Sure,” he said, “I’ve never been on one. Is it hard?”

“Nah,” Renly laughed, getting quickly in the queue and rooting around in his wallet for the ten quid that it would cost them. “I can show you how. I used to punt all the time when I was at uni. It was how I compensated for not being man enough to row.”

Loras laughed at that, and he pushed Renly’s wallet aside. “I’ll pay,” he said.

Renly rolled his eyes. He wanted to argue out of habit, but he supposed that it wasn’t worth arguing over such a pitiful amount as ten pounds. Besides, arguing over who paid seemed too much like the sort of thing a couple would do, Renly imagined, and he didn’t think that that would be helpful for Loras in the slightest.

It didn’t take them long to be given a boat, and once Renly had satisfied the people running the place that he wasn’t some ignorant tourist who’d never been in a punt before, they were left to their own devices.

Balancing the pole across the punt for the time being, Renly emptied his pockets of anything electronic and dumped them in Loras’ lap.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were good at this?” he laughed, leaning back against the cushioned seat and eyeing him warily.

“I am,” Renly insisted, grinning at him. “But it’s better that I give stuff to you anyway, just in case. I’m quite fond of my phone.”

Loras patted it. “I’ll take good care of it,” he promised.

“But no looking through my texts,” Renly warned.

Loras rolled his eyes. ”Like I’d want to read your texts,” he snorted. “I think I’d rather voluntarily drown than read that sort of stuff.”

Renly rolled his eyes right back at him. “What are you accusing me of?” he laughed, “Being a rampant sext addict or something?” Admittedly, he did have a few rather risqué exchanges with Satin on there, and a couple of rather incriminating photos, but he didn’t feel like admitting that to Loras. 

Loras shrugged. “You could be a sext addict,” he said. “Who knows.”

Renly smiled, exasperated, and picked the pole back up from where he’d lain it. “I wasn’t a sexting fiend with you,” he chuckled, “Why would I be one now?”

“I wasn’t a call boy,” Loras pointed out. “Now come on, I didn’t pay ten quid to sit stationary in a boat. Get a move on.”

Renly laughed and taking his comments on board, pushed them away from the bank. There was a set route they had to follow, and irritatingly, they’d put the punt the opposite way round from what Renly was used to. There was much debate to which end of the punt was supposed to be the ‘front’ end, and this place seemed to have gone with Oxford’s version rather than Cambridge’s, which frankly was the wrong way round as far as Renly was concerned.

He turned it around easily though, much to the envy of fellow punters beside him, many of whom were still stuck by the bank unable to even manoeuvre their boat free.

“You’re _actually_ good,” Loras admitted once Renly had got going, taking them swiftly along with the current and having to duck under several low hanging branches. “I thought it was all bravado.”

Renly grinned down at him. “Ah well I tend to have a way with phallic-shaped objects.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Is this how you looked at Cambridge then?”

“Round about,” Renly laughed, “Only with a glass of Pims in my spare hand and slightly more pretentious clothes.” He frowned. “Oh and six years younger of course.”

Loras smiled at him. “You could definitely still pass for early twenties,” he insisted. “When I first met you, I didn’t even realise you were twenty five; I thought you were like a year older than me at most, not almost five.”

“Four and a half,” Renly corrected quickly. “Definitely only four and a half.” He ducked again as he took them under a tree, cursing his height.

“Four and a half then,” Loras conceded, shaking his head in a most exasperated fashion.

“Would you have agreed to that date then if you’d known how old I was?” Renly asked, fearing the answer a little. 

Loras shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “A four year age gap is hardly weird. I mean, it’d have been weird if I was like thirteen and you were seventeen or something, but there’s not that much of a gap between twenty-one and twenty-five is there?”

“Not much,” Renly agreed, cringing at the thought that Loras had only been thirteen when he'd been seventeen and had started being very busy getting laid and the like. As Loras said though, twenty-one and twenty-five hadn't seemed too bad. Admittedly, there had been times where he’d really noticed the difference in years between him and Loras, but they had been few and far between if he remembered correctly. Although, if he was totally being honest, he’d have to say that those instances were even fewer and further between with him and Satin than they ever had been with Loras.

It seemed Loras had somehow guessed that Renly was thinking about Satin, for he shifted awkwardly on his cushioned seat. “You’ve got the same age difference now haven’t you?” he asked stiffly.

“Yeah,” Renly admitted. “He’s born in June too actually. But at the end rather than in the middle. You’d have been in the same school year I guess.”

Loras nodded, completely uninterested. To be honest, Renly didn’t really blame him. It was completely understandable that he wouldn’t give two figs about when Satin’s birthday was. After all, it was unlikely that Loras was about to suddenly decide that he wanted to become chummy with Satin just because they shared the same star sign or something. Not for the first time in his life, Renly cursed his ability not to think before he talked.


	44. Chapter 44

Renly took them down a good half of the recommended route before it occurred to him that Loras might want a go. He wouldn't have thought it Loras' thing at all, but Loras actually seemed rather interested, watching very intently as if to work out exactly how the punt worked. Whether Loras would be up to it though was another question, Renly reckoned. Loras was still rather frail, and punting was surprisingly tiring, particularly when one was going against the current as they were now. 

After a few minutes more of watching Loras watch him though, Renly lifted the pole out of the water. “Want a try?” he asked tentatively. 

Loras looked the pole up and down as if sizing it up. “Sure,” he said.

Very awkwardly, they switched places, balancing rather precariously as Renly passed the pole to him and sat down in his place.

“You just drag the pole in the direction you want to go,” Renly explained, stretching his slightly tired legs out. “And don’t expect too much of yourself the first couple of times you try to steer. It’s pretty difficult at first, and it took me ages to master it at uni, but once you get the hang of it….” He trailed off, watching as Loras gave it a go, remarkably successfully. “Right," he sighed, "you don’t really need me to explain do you?”

“Not really.”

Renly laughed, getting comfortable against the worn cushions that the punt was outfitted with. “Well who would have known it,” he said. “You’re a natural. I never had you down for anything sporty.”

“This is _sporty?_ ” Loras said scathingly, raising an eyebrow as he manoeuvred the punt around a bend in the river like he’d been doing it for years.

“Well yeah,” Renly grinned. “This is as sporty as it ever got for me at least.”

“No surprise then that you weren’t man enough to row,” Loras mumbled.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well Mr Male Model, you’re not exactly the picture of sportiness yourself, you know. In fact you're quite the opposite. You wear clothes for a living and you strut up and down catwalks.”

“True,” Loras admitted, “But I _used_ to go a lot further than punting on the sportiness scale. I used to be proper sporty a long time ago.”

“Sure you did, Loras,” Renly smiled sweetly. "And I used to get on really well with both my brothers." The day he saw Loras Tyrell participate in any type of sport would be the day that Renly started doubting everything he'd ever learnt. 

“Whatever.” Pouting slightly, Loras returned his attention to the boat that he was steering. For once, he clearly couldn't be bothered to argue, and biting his lip, he stared a little moodily down at the water.  

“So,” Renly laughed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Loras. “Anything new with you at home?”

Loras shrugged. “Not really,” he said. “Same old. Willas does nothing but read, Garlan does nothing at all. Margaery comes up at weekends. What about you?”

Renly sighed. “Yeah actually,” he admitted, thinking about the offensive blue sign that still stood outside his flat. “There is some stuff that's new. My landlord is selling up.”

Loras looked up. “You moving then?” His expression was a little odd, and Renly wondered if Loras too had some attachment to the flat that Renly really didn't want to leave. It had, after all, been his home for a good half a year. 

“Potentially,” Renly said, running a hand through his hair. He forced his widest grin. “But what is really great is that Sansa and Arya have said I can live with them if I want! Can you imagine anything so great?"

Loras evidently didn’t pick up on the sarcasm and he made a rather sour face. “Living with two girls?” he asked. "Why would you ever want to do that?"

That wasn’t the reason Renly would have given for not wanting to live with Sansa and Arya and he cocked his head, curious. “What’s wrong with living with girls?” he asked. He laughed ruefully. “We're gay. Society dictates that girls have to welcome us with open arms and then fight amongst themselves over who gets to have us as their gay best friend." It was one of those things that drove Renly up the wall; some girls just seemed to assume that he and them would suddenly strike up a friendship solely based on the fact that he was gay. 

This apparently wasn't what Loras disliked about girls though. “Girls are moody,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “You get Margaery at the wrong time of the month and she’s evil. Like _actually_ evil. More evil than she usually is even when she gets together with my grandmother.”

Renly wouldn’t know anything about the dreaded PMS; he’d never had sisters. He was pleased to be able to say too that beyond getting Sansa the odd bar of chocolate when she wasn't feeling very well, it was a topic that they didn't feel the need to talk about much. He never noticed any change in her behaviour either. “Surely not moodier than you?” he teased.

Loras shrugged. “Probably not,” he admitted. "But you expect it in me. You don't expect it in Margaery."

“Well I was kind of joking anyway,” Renly told him. “I wouldn’t want to live with them if you paid me. Sansa’s a neat freak, and Arya’s a slob. I’d be in the middle of their arguments. I'm not neat enough to side with Sansa, but I'm not enough of a slob to be able to put up with Arya and Gendry very happily either.”

“So what you going to do?”

“Well,” Renly laughed, “That’s a good question. I’ve spoken to my landlord and my flat’s on the market for just under a million and he hasn’t had any offers y-”

“Really?” Loras interrupted. “I’d have thought your flat would have been really popular.”

“Well it is,” Renly said. “But I’ve done a pretty good job this last week of making it look pretty unappealing. It’s amazing how many people can’t look past stacks of dirty dishes and bin bags of rubbish in the kitchen.” He grinned. Whilst it was in his tenancy agreement that he had to allow potential buyers to visit, there was nothing to stop him making their visit as unenjoyable as it possibly could be, and so a few days ago, Sansa had given him a list of all the annoying dirty habits that Arya and Gendry had, a list which Renly was now religiously adhering to. It was obviously doing the trick, and whilst not having done the washing up for the past three days made Renly’s stomach turn, he thought it a decent compromise to give him time to think about his options.

Loras seemed confused though. “If you don’t want to move, why don’t you just buy it? I don't really see the problem here.”

“That’s exactly what I was about to tell you before you so rudely interrupted,” Renly said, rolling his eyes. “My landlord hasn’t had any offers yet and I was thinking about buying it.”

Loras shrugged. “So just buy it then."

Renly just smiled at him. Everything in Loras’ world was always so black and white. He never stopped to weight up pros and cons; he just acted on pure instinct and dealt with the consequences later. “Well maybe I will,” Renly told him.

Loras cocked his head. “There’s a but, isn’t there?”

Renly nodded a little reluctantly. He’d refrained from voicing this to anyone so far, namely Satin, for fear of sounding a little bit too much like the spoiled rich brat he probably was. Loras, on the other hand, was even more spoiled and rich than he was. Loras wasn't capable of judging him even if he wanted to. 

“So what is it?” Loras asked. The sun had gone behind a cloud now, and Loras looked up at it as he lifted the pole out of the water to push them along again, briefly taking his eyes off Renly’s face.

Renly took a deep breath. “It’s that when I imagined myself finally buying and settling down, I thought I’d buy a house and not some one bedroom flat where I can’t even have people to stay without putting them in the living room,” he confessed. Satin, he knew, would have been bemused at that confession. With house prices rising far far faster than wages could ever hope to, Renly knew that he was lucky to be in a position to be able to afford anything within two miles of central London, let alone his gorgeous flat that was about a two minute walk from the river. He knew he should feel grateful, but he couldn’t help having high aspirations.

Loras too looked a little bemused. “I still don’t see the problem,” he said flatly, panting a little. “Just buy the flat downstairs too. Turn it back into a house. Shouldn't be too hard should it?”

Renly laughed. He’d have been lying if he said that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind over the past week, but he was very amused by the fact that Loras just assumed that money wasn’t an issue for him. To be fair, it wasn't particularly, but Loras had no way of knowing that. 

“How do you even know I can afford to buy both flats?” Renly chuckled. 

Loras frowned at that, leaning rather contemplatively against the punting pole. “Well you can, can’t you? It’s only two million.”

Renly smiled fondly, wishing Gendry and Arya had been present to hear him say that. “Yes it is only two million,” he laughed. “I’d be called extravagant though. My friends would probably judge me. A lot.”

Loras looked even more confused at that. “But two million’s hardly extravagant at all,” he insisted. “I paid at least twice that for my flat in Brooklyn, and New York isn’t half as expensive as London is.” 

“Yeah but you’re a lot richer than me,” Renly pointed out.

Loras shrugged. “Probably,” he admitted.

Renly rolled his eyes. There was no ‘probably’ about it. He wasn’t quite sure how much Loras was worth, but he imagined that it easily went into the tens of millions. Whilst he himself would definitely be thought of as rich, Loras, he reckoned, was probably _inconceivably_ rich. 

When he next looked back up, he found that they were stationary, Loras having abandoned pushing the boat along in favour of staring up at the sky.

“You tired?” Renly asked. It wouldn’t have surprised him. Punting was quite exerting, by his standards at least, and Loras, he knew, wasn’t exactly fit.

Loras glared at him though. “Actually," he said, "I was wondering if the weather’s going to hold. What do you reckon?”

Renly joined him in staring up at the sky. Loras was right. For the moment it was still sunny, but dark clouds were looming threateningly nearby. Loras definitely had a point when he'd doubted that the good weather would last much longer. 

“It’ll probably hold till we get back,” Renly told him assuredly.

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t hold until they got back. Ten minutes later, the heavens had well and truly opened and they were still a good long stretch of river away from the boathouse they had rented the punt from.

Renly had taken back over with the pole and Loras meanwhile was doing the equally important job of sitting on their phones to try and protect them from the pouring rain. Renly had been the only one of them with a jumper, and whilst he’d given it to Loras in a last ditch attempt to keep him from getting too wet, both of them were soaked to the skin. Their hair was plastered to their foreheads, their jeans were dark and heavy with water, and they'd both stopped even bothering trying to shield themselves from the onslaught.

There was a silver lining in even this cloud, Renly found though. His shirt had stuck to him and had turned entirely see-through, and he was rather enjoying the stares that he was getting from every girl who passed him on the bank, even if he did envy their umbrellas more than a little bit.

Loras too didn’t seem to be immune to the charms of Renly’s wet shirt, and unlike the girls passing on the bank, he had rather a better view, a perfect view in fact to do a bit of staring. It was a little awkward, Renly thought, but he said nothing. Pretending to be oblivious was the best policy here, he reckoned. Saying something would just make things more awkward. 

“We’re almost back,” Renly told him instead, as they rounded a bend and the boathouse came back into sight.

Loras didn’t even seem to hear him. He was too busy staring absent-mindedly at Renly’s chest.

Renly bit back a sigh, wondering if this was how Sansa felt whenever Robert failed to talk to her face. Whilst it was nice to know that Loras evidently still thought he was hot, flattering even, Renly didn’t think that Renly didn’t think that that was the sort of thing friendships were built on.

“ _Loras,_ ” Renly laughed awkwardly, waving his free hand in front of Loras’ face.

Loras looked up. “Huh?”

“We’re almost back.”

Loras nodded and perhaps he’d realised that he’d been staring, for a blush quickly crept up his neck and into his cheeks. “Oh, okay,” he said. "That's good. I don't know how much longer I can keep these phones dry."

Renly smiled at him. “Talking of dry, I don’t know about you, but as soon as we’re off this boat I’m going to buy some dry clothes.” The sooner the better, Renly thought, for his jeans were becoming so stiff with water that he could barely move his legs. 

Loras nodded in agreement, eyes firmly glued to Renly’s face this time. “Me too, I think.”

There was no question about them needing to find some dry clothes by the time they handed back the boat. Renly’s shoes had turned into puddles, squelching with every step; his jeans felt like sandpaper against his legs; and even his boxers were soaked right through. It was the most uncomfortable that Renly reckoned he’d ever been, and had he not been in public, he might have stripped naked to be free of his wet jeans and shoes.

Loras apparently felt the same, for they practically ran to the nearest shop they could find, Renly almost dragging Loras along with him. 

The nearest shop happened to be a Primark, one of the cheapest shops in existence, and he and Loras looked at each other rather pitifully as they slowed to a walk. Under normal circumstances, Renly knew that neither he nor Loras would be seen dead in anything from Primark. Desperate times called for desperate measures though.

“I’ve got a challenge for you,” Renly laughed as they summoned up the courage to go in. “Fifteen quid spending limit and we’ve got to buy an entire outfit. We meet back out here in fifteen minutes. How about it?”

Loras raised an eyebrow, but apparently the thought of backing down from a challenge was worse than the prospect of wearing clothes that cost only pennies. “Fine,” he said shortly. “You’re on.”

It was crowded inside, and Renly saw out of the corner of his eye that Loras seemed a little nervous to be left by himself, even within the walls of a single shop. He didn’t say anything to Renly though, and when Renly veered to the left, he went determinedly to the right. Apparently even he was sensible enough to know that there was nothing to be anxious about in Primark of all places, where every customer was so inherently oblivious about fashion that it would be impossible for them to recognise him.

Renly wasn’t sure if he’d actually ever been in a Primark before, but he quickly discovered that it was an experience he never wanted to repeat. He didn’t know if this was a particularly badly-stocked Primark, or if all Primarks were like this, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen such chaos. Nothing seemed to be in his size, and organisation seemed to be a foreign concept here, clothes having been chucked wildly across the floor as if by animals.

It was him who’d suggested this though, and so Renly faced his fear of the chaos and got on with it. Jeans were the most important, he supposed, and so he started there. He always had trouble with jeans even in normal shops though, and he quickly found that Primark was a thousand times worse. Anything that looked to be even vaguely long enough in the leg would be far too big round the hips. There was no time to try anything on though, and so Renly had to get by on mere guess work. It was a difficult choice to make, but Renly eventually decided that the leg length was slightly more important than the waist measurement, and so he chucked the nearest pair that was a vaguely acceptable dark blue colour into his nasty plastic shopping basket.

Seeing as he was soaked literally to the skin, boxers were next and Renly took the first inoffensive pair he found that weren’t white before moving rapidly on to finding something for his top half. Not wanting a stretchy t shirt as that wouldn’t hide his too big jeans, he chose a shirt. The only shirt that was both very cheap and was in his size though was a Hawaiian one, hideous with vibrant turquoise palm trees and fuchsia flowers. It made Renly want to vomit a little, and yet he chucked it into his basket anyway, well aware that he was running out of time.

Shoes and socks were the only thing left, and Renly really didn’t have much choice at all there. Socks were easy enough, but he had rather large feet and shoes were more difficult. They only had two types available in his size, and after a quick debate with himself, Renly chose canvas ones that at least didn’t have that horrid fake leather smell.

He paid quickly, and changed even quicker in the grotty changing room, relishing getting out of his wet clothes even though it meant pulling on clothes that had probably spent a lot of time lying discarded out on the store floor.

He made it back outside just within the fifteen minute deadline, to find what he assumed to be Loras already waiting for him.

Loras had cleverly avoided the jeans problem that Renly had had, and he’d gone for the skinny version that Primark did, which evidently had a lot of stretch in them. They made him look even taller and skinnier than he actually was, which was a considerable feat indeed, but he at least wouldn’t have to stop every five yards to pull up his trousers, Renly conceded. More wisely too, considering the weather, he’d chosen a jumper instead of a shirt. That, Renly supposed, wasn't too bad, even if it was about ten sizes too big for him and an odd shade of orange.

What was most strange though was the hat that Loras had evidently thought was a good idea. Straw and with a brown ribbon around it, it looked like the sort of thing that someone might wear on a beach. Why Loras had chosen it, Renly had no clue.

“Interesting look,” Renly laughed, leaning heavily against the shop window and feeling very embarrassed about his Hawaiian shirt. “Well nobody’s _ever_ going to recognise you now.”

“I bloody hope not,” Loras said. “The Daily Mail would have a field day.” Scowling, he pushed the brim of his hat further down before consenting to follow Renly back down onto the street. The rain had consented to slow to a steady drizzle now, and it wasn't too bad outside.

Renly smiled rather fondly as he glanced sideways at Loras and tried to not let his jeans fall down. Oddly, he had to think that Loras made the bizarre ensemble work. Whether it was the way that he held himself or the fact that Renly was used to seeing photos of Loras in many a strange outfit, the fact remained that Loras didn’t actually look half bad, even with the bizarre hat. Renly had said many times that Loras could probably wear a bin bag and still look decently put together, and perhaps this was now his proof.

“You don’t actually look half bad,” Renly admitted. “But can I ask about the hat?”

Loras shrugged. “Nobody is seeing my hair when it dries.”

Renly couldn’t help but grin. “And you thought the hat was… um, _better?”_

Loras shrugged again. “It does the job.”

Renly couldn’t argue with that, even if he did think that the hat _had_ to be worse than any state Loras’ curls could possibly be in. “Well how did you even _afford_ the hat?” Renly asked. He’d only had about five pence left over out of the fifteen pounds they’d allocated themselves, and he'd come out of Primark distinctly hat-less. “You didn’t cheat did you?”

Loras raised an eyebrow from under the hat's brim. “Course I didn’t,” he said shortly. “I just skimped on other areas.”

“Well there’s nothing skimpy about that jumper,” Renly laughed, tugging on the gaudy orange fabric a little affectionately. “We could both camp in there.”

Loras shrugged. “There was only this size left and it was reduced,” he said. 

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Let me see your receipt.”

Loras shook his head. “No,”

Renly grinned. “Yes.” Without waiting for Loras to disagree again, he reached into the Primark bag that Loras was holding and pulled out the receipt from among his wet clothes. Holding it out of Loras’ reach, he was surprised to see that Loras indeed was under the fifteen quid limit, by fifteen pence to be precise. On closer inspection, he saw how.

“No underwear Loras?” he laughed. He looked Loras up and down. “Please tell me you’re wearing the wet pair?”

“Sure,” Loras shrugged. “If it makes you happy.”

Renly couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re not are you?”

“Nah, not so much.”

Renly grinned, rolling his eyes. "Well I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. He breathed a deep sigh as the car park came into view, for there was only so long he could be seen in public like this. "It was awful in there, wasn't it?" he groaned to Loras. "I've never seen chaos like it."  
  
Loras shrugged. "You should see behind the scenes at fashion week," he said. "It's far worse. You have like thirty seconds to change outfits, and clothes just end up being thrown everywhere in everyone's haste to get them off."

Renly thought that it surely couldn't be worse than _Primark_ , but he didn't want to argue. After all, he supposed that Loras probably knew what he was talking about when it came to fashion shows. Instead he just tugged on the sleeve of Loras’ too big jumper. “Home then?" he asked. "I wouldn’t want to get you back after your curfew.”

Loras made a face at him. “I don’t have a curfew,” he hissed. “But yeah, we should probably be heading back. I’m kinda tired. Can we go to the shop before we go though? I need more cigarettes.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, leading them quickly back to the car. “Please tell me you haven’t _already_ finished the pack you bought earlier?” Loras had almost resembled a chain-smoker on the way here and he’d had a few on the punt, but there were twenty in a pack, and Renly couldn’t believe he’d already had that many.

Loras rolled his eyes at the accusation. “I haven’t finished them if you must know,” he said sharply. “But they’re so sodden they won’t light. And I know from experience that dried out fags taste really bad. And even though I just shopped in Primark, I'm reckon I _might_ be able to afford to buy a new packet."

“Sure,” Renly laughed, not wanting to get between Loras and his cigarettes. “Newsagent’s over there. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Loras wasn’t long, and Renly wasn’t surprised to see that he’d bought a good couple of packets, evidently intending to smuggle them back in when Renly took him home. It was an ambitious plan, Renly thought, for he didn't imagine that much at all got past Loras' grandmother. 

Renly didn’t comment on it though. He had more important things on his mind. “Back to the hat,” he laughed. “You’re in the privacy of the car now. Can you please take it off?”

Loras rolled his eyes, and both hands on the brim, he pulled it down as far as it would go. “No,” he said firmly. “I told you that nobody is seeing my hair, and I believe that includes you. No matter how big an opinion you have of yourself.”

Renly gave him his most winning smile. “ _Please?_ ” he whined. "I'm curious."

“No.”

Renly let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he conceded. Shoving the keys in the ignition, he turned his attention to the road. He knew better than to argue with Loras when he was being stubborn like this.

It was only once they’d got back onto the motorway that Renly realised how quite tiring the afternoon must have been for Loras. He’d been warned by Garlan that Loras needed to ‘take it easy’ so to speak, and Renly wondered now if he’d been wrong to suggest that they have such a full afternoon. Loras looked beyond exhausted, and whilst he wasn't quite tired enough to neglect his cigarettes, he’d shut his eyes as he smoked, very limp in his seat, like a toy that had run out of battery.

Indeed, the next time that Renly looked over, a good ten minutes later, Loras was clearly asleep, his chest rising and falling rather peacefully. His lit cigarette was still loosely in his hand, and reaching across him, Renly plucked it from his fingers and stubbed it out in the ashtray of his car that he’d never used.

He slept all the way through the journey home and he was still out for the count when Renly finally pulled into Highgarden’s drive, dusk just beginning to fall. He stirred only slightly when Renly touched his shoulder gently and that gave Renly an idea too tempting to pass up. Even knowing that he’d face Loras’ wrath if he woke, Renly couldn’t help but carefully slide the hat from Loras’ head, smirking to himself all the while.

And Garlan hadn’t been lying, Renly quickly saw; Loras definitely looked more than a little like he was rocking a white man’s afro. Still damp, Loras’ hair was so curly that it defied gravity more than Idina Menzel ever had. It looked rather sweet, Renly thought, endearing almost, but he could understand why Loras felt the need to straighten it. It took years off him, and not in a good way; he looked more like an overgrown school boy than Renly reckoned Loras would ever want to. 

Blissfully asleep as he was, it was tempting to sit a while and let him rest, knowing as Renly did how much trouble Loras usually had getting any sleep at all. Renly really needed to be heading back to London though and not wanting Loras to wake incriminatingly bare-headed, Renly slipped the hat back on. He knew from a lot of experience after all just how well Loras could hold grudges.


	45. Chapter 45

In the end, it didn’t even take Satin until his fifth of June deadline to decide which university he wanted to go to. He chose the one that Renly had known he probably always would, the one too that Renly would have chosen had it been himself making the decision. Edinburgh was the better university of the two after all, and unlike Aberystwyth, which was inarguably in the middle of nowhere, it was an appealing town in its own right. It had shops and cinemas and bars, and Renly knew that Satin would have an infinitely better time there, even if it did mean that he wasn't able to defer the year as he had wanted to.

“So what happens now?” Renly sighed, once Satin had finished telling him that he’d sent the UCAS form off this morning, with Edinburgh selected as his choice.

“Well term doesn’t start till September, which is a good three months away. That's ages away really.”

Three months didn’t feel that long away, Renly thought privately to himself, but considering that they’d only been dating officially for a little over three months too, Renly supposed that it was in fact quite a crucial amount of time. Oddly though, it felt as if he and Satin had known each other forever.

“Sure,” he said, “well let’s take it as it comes then? Not think about it too much for the moment?”

Satin smiled. “Sure," he said, coming to stand behind Renly and slipping his hands down the back of his shirt. “And trust me Renly, I’m really good at distracting.”

 

* * *

 

 

A month and a half later, Renly didn’t think he even needed any of Satin’s distractions to keep himself busy enough not to dwell on the prospect of being left by himself come October. In actual fact, he wondered what he’d let himself in for if he was being totally honest. He had two flats now to his name, and neither at the moment was particularly habitable.

To be fair, everything had gone as well as it could have done. His landlord had been more happy to sell to him, if only perhaps to avoid being part of a chain; the guy downstairs had moved out without even taking a third of the notice he was entitled to; planning permission hadn't been an issue, and yet still, Renly wondered if he’d bitten off a little more than he could chew.

Both flats were in tatters. Walls separating them had been ripped out and knocked down; the gas, electricity and water systems of both properties were almost in the process of being merged back into one; the kitchen upstairs had been torn out at the roots, ready to be turned back into a bedroom, and Renly had to wonder whether he should have done a little more research before taking on such a large project. Things that he'd originally thought a priority, like putting in a shiny new kitchen downstairs because he absolutely hated the one currently there, were quickly being relegated down the list.

To make things go more quickly, he’d recruited Gendry and Arya to do some of the more unskilled jobs in exchange for a couple of hundred quid. They'd had great fun earlier that week taking a sledgehammer to several pieces of drywall- a job which could have been done neatly by removing the skirting board and unscrewing it, and now they were having equally as much fun tearing the wallpaper off the walls downstairs. Technically, this was a low priority job, but Renly thought that if he had to look at the hideous seventies wallpaper for another day, he might go mad.

Gendry and Arya were strangely efficient, and yet Renly preferred to stay out of their way all the same. He and Satin were tackling the upstairs instead, methodically taking the tiles off the kitchen walls. Satin too was being paid, for whilst he had offered to help out for free, Renly had insisted that he give him at least a token amount. Having made the decision now that he wasn’t going to defer the year, Satin needed all the income he could get.

Regardless of the fact that he knew Satin needed the money, Renly didn't like watching him help him with what was essentially manual labour. Satin was gentle, with soft hands and slim shoulders. He wasn't cut out for tearing tiles off the walls, or for carrying large bags of Gendry and Arya's smashed up plaster-board to the skip outside.

“You know, Satin,” Renly said as sat on the floor together piling the tiles up into a neat stack. “You don’t have to do this. If you’d only let me help y-“

“Renly,” Satin sighed, raising his eyebrow in a rare show of impatience. “I've already told you. I don’t want your help.”

“But I could _lend_ you the money,” Renly insisted. “I’d even let you pay it back if you wanted.”

Satin rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Renly,” he laughed. “I’ve got enough saved for the first year, and I’ve still got a while before I go.” He stood up straight, stretching a little. “Actually, I interviewed for a summer job yesterday.”

“You did?” Renly asked. “Well that’s great. Doing what?”

Satin smiled. “I’m going to be a bartender in a gay bar down in Brixton.” He nudged Renly's shoulder. “It should work out well actually. I can work shifts on the days where I don’t have anything planned, and it should be great for picking up new clients.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yay for me,” he laughed, summoning up a mental picture. “I can see you now, in leather trousers and a shirt so tight that you can't do up any of the buttons." He grinned. "Do you even get to wear a shirt?”

“Yes actually,” Satin chuckled, “I do get to wear a shirt. Except if I work on Fridays and Saturdays, and then I just get to wear a bow tie and the aforementioned tight leather trousers.”

Renly laughed; he could picture the ensemble far far too well in his mind. “Well I’ll be paying you a visit certainly," he grinned, "and if the service is any decent I might even tip you."

Satin smiled, sitting back down on the floor amongst their stacks of tiles. He looked at Renly curiously. “I wouldn’t have thought lots of leather your thing?”

Renly shrugged. “It’s not. I'm more of the classy, elegant type." He winked. “But it’ll be hilarious." Indeed, those would definitely be photos for Facebook, Renly reckoned.

Satin just rolled his eyes. “Right…” he said. He seemed to read Renly's mind, for then he raised an eyebrow. "No photos though. I'm going to university in September. I don't want all my potential new friends to be assaulted with half naked pictures of me when they add me on Facebook."

Renly grinned. "But I'll need mementos of you whilst you're away. You know, to _remember_ you by." He gave Satin his sweetest smile. "And I think half naked pictures of you in tight leather trousers would be just the perfect thing. I could put them on the new mantelpiece I'm going to have downstairs, to show my brothers if they ever deign to come round." Stannis' face, he reckoned, would be particularly priceless.

Satin rolled his eyes though, evidently unimpressed. "I'm sure I can find you some more suitable mementos for your mantelpiece."

“Well you do that," Renly laughed. Smiling, he shuffled towards him on his knees, resting his head on top of Satin's when he got there. They still hadn’t discussed what was going to happen when he went, but regardless of the decisions they made, Renly knew that he’d certainly see a lot less of him. Some souvenirs would definitely be needed, he reckoned.

He was still leant against Satin when his phone vibrated somewhere amongst the tiles on the floor.

“Who needs you?” Satin laughed, leaning back against Renly's chest. "I didn't realise you had any friends."

Renly shrugged, fumbling around on the floor for wherever he'd last put his phone. “Well it’s probably not Sansa," he said, "She’s finally biting the bullet and introducing Sandor to her parents after like a year of dating. They're going for lunch somewhere."

“It could be a cry from her for help,” Satin pointed out.

“True,” Renly admitted. Finding his phone underneath one of his and Satin's jumpers, he picked it up. “Nope. Not a cry for help. Loras. Wants to know if I’m in.” To his shame, he hadn't had time to see Loras since they'd had their day trip to Canterbury. Each and every weekend had been filled with some DIY task or another and he'd barely seen anyone, let alone someone who didn't live in London and was apparently adverse to being out in public in London.

“Well you are in,” Satin supplied rather unnecessarily. “Thinks he wants to drop by or something?”

“I’m assuming so," Renly said, shrugging as he texted Loras to tell him that he was indeed in.

 

* * *

 

 

It was another half an hour before there was a knock on the door. It was Arya who opened it and Renly heard her unimpressed sigh all the way from upstairs.

"Take a god damn key next time, or at least prop the bloody door open," she grumbled. 

She'd confused Satin and Loras again, and Renly ran down the stairs to smooth the situation over, glad at least that Arya hadn't chosen to mention Satin's sexual prowess this time.

Arya had apparently left Loras standing on the doorstep, and when Renly pulled the door open again from where it had swung half-shut, he was unsurprised to see that Loras looked a little bemused. What _was_ surprising was Loras' hair. It was curly again, but not the tight curls that Renly had seen on him last time under his hat. It was much more like it usually had been when they'd been dating. Quite how he'd achieved that, Renly had no idea, for it couldn't have grown that much in a month to allow the curls to drop that much. 

"Hi Loras," Renly grinned. He wondered if he should congratulate Loras on having the courage to be out in central London, even if his front doorstep wasn't exactly the busiest area around town.

Loras frowned at him though. "Why would that girl think I have a key?” he asked.

Renly cringed and scratched his head. “That's just Arya for you, Loras. She still hasn’t got her head around everyone I've dated yet.”

“Oh,” Loras nodded and seemed to think that fair enough. He paused. “Um, is he here then? Should I come back another time?”

“It’s fine,” Renly laughed. “He doesn’t have me on a leash. I’m allowed to see my friends.”

There was an awkward pause where Renly reckoned both of them were wondering if he ought to have said ex-boyfriend back there instead of friend. Somehow, Renly imagined that it would have changed the tone of the sentence somewhat.

“So,” Renly laughed, thinking that it was best now to just change the topic. “You’re in London. That's great. Want to go to the coffee shop around the corner or something? I’d invite you in but…” Renly opened the door so that Loras could see the devastation inside.

Loras managed a laugh and yet Renly could see the battle raging in his head. On one hand, Loras had been evidently counting on coming in so that he wouldn't have be out in public, but on the other, they'd already established that Satin was indoors.

Eventually apparently, his fear of the current boyfriend won out. “Sure,” he said. “A coffee shop would be nice I guess.”

Renly smiled. “It’ll do you good.” He took Loras by the elbow and led him temporarily inside. “You just wait here and give me a minute. I’ll just go get my wallet.”

Leaving Loras trying to find a patch of floor to stand on that wasn't covered in smashed up pieces of drywall, Renly went back up the stairs to get his wallet. It wasn't where he had left it, or where he remembered leaving it at least, and after rummaging through several drawers in his bedside table in search of it, he eventually spotted it half hidden under the duvet of his unmade bed. He'd evidently tossed it there and forgotten about it.

He'd left Loras for a good five minutes by now, and coming quickly down the landing to rejoin him, he was a little horrified to see Satin standing on the stairs ahead of him. He had a bag of broken tiles in his hand, and he’d evidently been on his way out to the skip before his path had crossed with Loras', still standing as he was at the bottom of the stairs in what would eventually be the hall.

Blinking, the two of them were staring at each other. They both looked a little taken aback, and Renly didn't blame them. Standing beside each other, the similarities between them were glaring. It was almost as if someone had placed a mirror between them even, but one of those fairground ones, the type which distorted the reflection slightly. Satin's hair was longer, his legs were shorter, his features more delicate, softer somehow. Anyone would knew them well wouldn't have mixed them up, but there was definitely enough of a resemblance to excuse Arya.

Sliding past Satin, Renly did his best to smile at the both of them. “Satin, this is Loras,” Renly said. “Loras, Satin.”

Satin smiled back and coming down the last few steps behind Renly, he held out his hand for Loras to shake. Renly winced at the gesture, expecting Loras to snub him, but to his surprise, Loras took Satin's hand and even gave him half a slightly forced smile. Apparently his mother had brought him up better than Renly had anticipated, or at the very least, he didn't want to appear to Satin as the jealous ex that Renly knew he was.

“Hi,” Loras said.

“Hi,”

There was a slightly awkward silence where Renly got his jacket from where it was hanging on the door and shrugged his arms into the sleeves.

“So,” Satin said, evidently trying to fill that silence. “Renly tells me you’re from Kent too.”

“Yes,” Loras agreed. “From Highgarden.”

Satin nodded. “That lovely white big house?" he asked, surprising Renly, for it had never occurred to him that Satin might be familiar with where Loras lived, despite the fact that they were from the same county. He supposed that it was an oversight on his part. Highgarden was probably the nicest dwelling in the whole of southern England; it was natural that it was well-known amongst the locals.

Satin smiled once Loras nodded. "I went there once actually,” he told him, much to Renly's amusement. “On a school trip. Back when I was in primary school. We were doing a science project thing on plants and we went to look at the gardens.”

Loras nodded along. Anyone else would have been embarrassed, Renly thought, by the fact that someone they'd just met had once gone on a tour of their family home, but Loras didn't even bat an eyelid. Renly reckoned it had something to do with being famous. “Well did you like them?” he asked.

“Yeah, they were lovely.”

Loras shrugged. “They're pretty, I suppose. So whereabouts are you from?”

“Nowhere special," Satin laughed. "Just one of the Medway towns.”

Loras gave a rather small smile. “Well that’s nice.”

Renly thought this the perfect opportunity to intervene, and bending slightly, he gave Satin a kiss on the cheek. It was more chaste than their goodbyes usually were, but he thought it best to tone it down around Loras. “I’ll be back soon right?”

“Take your time,” Satin insisted. “I’ll hold the fort down and make sure those two in there don’t break anything more.”

A loud crash followed his words, and Renly almost pushed Loras out of the door. He didn't want to hang around to see yet more of the destruction that Gendry and Arya were busy causing.

 

* * *

 

 

“So what do you think of Satin?” Renly asked as he led Loras down the road. Strangely, he found he wanted Loras' opinion on Satin. Perhaps it was because Loras was the only man who he reckoned was even half as fussy and shallow as he was, or perhaps it was because deep down, Renly knew that the most selfish part of him probably enjoyed Loras' jealousy of Satin a little bit. It was human nature, he reckoned, to feel better about themselves when you were desired.

Loras shrugged. “Well you have a type, that much is clear.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “So sue me.” Everyone, he reckoned had a type to some extent. His type apparently involved curly hair; Sansa's type consisted of slightly dangerous men who were entirely unsuitable for her, whereas Robert on the other hand was more flexible- his type was drunk and willing. What Renly did wonder though was whether his type pre-dated Loras or if Loras pre-dated his type. It was an interesting question, Renly thought, and whilst he could think of several men he'd dated pre-Loras who had had a distinct wave to their hair, he reckoned that it was probably post-Loras that he'd become a big fan of curls. He'd got used to playing with them perhaps, to unravelling them and then watching them spring back. 

Loras made a face though, as if it were indeed a crime that Renly have a type, and Renly tried to change the subject.  
   
“So the Medway towns," he asked, "are they nice?”

Loras turned his nose up. “No. A lot of them are dumps.”

Renly nodded. That didn’t surprise him. From the little bits of information he gleaned from Satin, he seemed to have grown up on a rather rough estate. His mother had apparently been a drunk, and by the sounds of it, had probably not long been into her teens by the time that she had Satin.

The coffee shop was visible now, and Loras made a beeline for it, evidently desperate to get off the street and into the relative privacy that somewhere indoors would offer him. “So where did you meet him? he asked Renly as he pulled the door open a little forcefully.

Renly grinned. “You know.. Just around.”

Apparently he was too cagey, for Loras turned to him in the doorway, eyebrow raised. “Around?” he clarified.

“Well yeah," Renly laughed, " _around_.”

Loras sat down at the table furthest from the window. “Where is this mysterious _around?”_

"Well I don't see what it is to you," Renly chuckled, sitting down opposite him and pointing at the menu when the waitress came over. "But if you must know, me and Satin met on Tinder." He winked. "We both swiped right."

Loras looked a little baffled. "I thought Tinder was just for straight people?”

“Well, it’s mainly for straight people,” Renly agreed, for it was true. “but it works if you're gay too. You just have to tweak your discovery settings." He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have half the amount of choice that you would if you were looking for a girl, and if you're fussy then sometimes it tells you that there's no new people in your area, but there’s some gay people on it.”

Loras frowned. “Oh. I always thought Grindr was the gay version of tinder.”

“Well yeah it is,” Renly agreed tentatively.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “But?” he prompted.

“But you don’t go after dates on Grindr,” Renly grinned. “Let’s just say that.” It was several years now since Grindr had been particularly popular but Renly still remembered all too well how he'd been bombarded with three hundred thousand pictures of men's penises. Unlike Tinder which linked through Facebook, people could be completely anonymous on Grindr. That perhaps explained why most people's usernames had lacked even their first name and had instead consisted of things like 'HornyTop' and 'BigCock'. It had served a purpose, and rumour told that it had got a little less crude in recent years, but Renly had never really taken the time to find out.

“I’ve never tried it," Loras admitted, stating the obvious as far as Renly was concerned.

Renly grinned. “Well if you ever want a quick hook up, go for it. But you’d get met with a fair amount of ridicule if you asked a lot of the people on there for a date.” He yawned stretching. "Maybe it's changed now, but it always used to be that you could chat to anyone nearby unless you actively blocked them. A lot of guys just used to harass you for pictures of your cock."

Loras made a face; that clearly didn't appeal to him. “Have you ever met someone on Grindr?” he asked.

Renly shrugged, rocking back slightly on his chair. “Not for a long time. Several years ago I used to. When I was about your age, I suppose." He laughed, thinking how long it felt since he'd been twenty three. "Grindr was a big thing circa 2010."

Loras bit down on his lower lip, leaning slightly across the table. “Do you not find that weird?" he asked. "Just arranging to sleep with someone that you’ve never met and you know nothing about.”

Renly shrugged. “Well it's a slightly more extreme version of a one night stand I guess." He sighed. "It suited me quite well at the time. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and it was fun, I guess. A lot less hassle than going on a night out if your only aim for the evening is to get laid.”

Loras nodded. “Yeah I guess," he mumbled. He evidently wanted a change of subject.

Their coffees had arrived now, and Renly drank deeply, burning his tongue in the process. "So," he laughed, wishing he had a glass of water to stick his tongue in. “You never told me why you’re in London.”

Loras looked up at him. “Well I’m coming back," he said simply.

“Huh?”

Loras frowned as if it was obvious. “Well I can’t stay at home forever," he said shortly, "and my counsellor says that I’m ready to be on my own again. So I’m coming back to London. That’s why I’m here actually: to look at a flat. Garlan's coming with me."

“Oh,” Renly didn't know if he'd have agreed that Loras was ready to leave home, but he supposed that the counsellor was in a better position to decide than he was. Whilst he'd like to say that he knew Loras well, it wasn't like he had one on one sessions regarding his progress. “Where's this flat?” he asked.

“Park Lane," Loras told him.

“Nice,” Renly laughed, letting out a low whistle. “Dark blue on the Monopoly board. Can't get much fancier than that.” Besides being a very posh area, it was an interesting location for Loras to have chosen, Renly thought. With Margaery at uni just behind Tottenham Court Road and with him in Pimlico, Park Lane was roughly half way between the two. It was a still good half an hour walk though from either him or Margaery, and Renly thought that perhaps for the best. Whilst he reckoned that Loras needed a decent support network around him, he didn’t think it would do him any good either to be just round the corner from him and Margaery; he needed his own space, his own life.

“So you’re going to be living by yourself?” Renly clarified. "Entirely by yourself?"

“Yes,” Loras told him. He seemed a little proud, and Renly didn't blame him. He supposed it was a big step for Loras towards getting his life back on track.

“And you’ll be all right?” Renly asked tentatively.

“Loras looked a little offended. "Of course I'm going to be all right," he said bluntly. He sighed, his face softening a little. "And anyway, Margaery’s going to come check on me every few days, and my counsellor’s going to come up every week for an appointment. Those were the conditions.”

“Well great,” Renly smiled. He felt a little better learning that. “And also, happy belated birthday.” He’d sent Loras a message at the time, but he couldn’t remember ever getting anything back.

Loras returned his smile surprisingly cheerfully. “Thanks for texting me."

Renly raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Well that's all good and well, but why wasn’t I invited to the birthday do?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I didn’t really do anything," he admitted. "Margaery just came back for the weekend and made a cake. Which Garlan ate all of. But there was no big party."

“No?" Renly laughed, "That’s a shame?” He for one loved big parties, and all in all he thought it a damn shame that he'd managed to miss Loras' birthday in the seven months they were dating.

Loras shrugged. “I didn’t want a big party. I’m supposed to be avoiding, you know, _environments_ like that.” He sighed heavily, almost nostalgically. “And what’s there to celebrate anyway? Twenty-three feels old.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Consider your audience here.”

“Right,” Loras laughed. “Sorry.”

Renly just sighed heavily. He'd sell his soul to be twenty-three again. Admittedly, he'd have rather been twenty-one or twenty-two, but he'd have settled for twenty-three. He glanced back at Loras, still so youthful looking. "I've been meaning to ask," he laughed. "How did you get your hair less curly but still curly today?"

Loras frowned at him, suddenly suspicious. "How do you know that this isn't my natural hair?" he asked slowly.

"Um, just the description Garlan gave me," Renly said hurriedly, not wanting to admit that he'd peeked under the dreaded hat whilst Loras had been helplessly asleep. "He said Justin Timberlake circa Nsync." He gestured to Loras' hair. "And that's not Justin Timberlake circa Nsync. Your curls are much looser than I, um, _imagined_ them being." He grinned. "And besides. You were so ratty about showing me your natural hair last time. You're not exactly going to change your mind in a month."

Loras still looked a little suspicious, as if he didn't quite believe him, but he didn't press the matter. "Fine," he sighed. "It's keratin. But in very small amounts, so that it just relaxes the curl a bit rather than making it straight."

Renly raised an eyebrow. Loras, it seemed, was determined to mess around with his hair until the end of his days.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at university now unfortunately, so chapters will definitely slow. I will do my best though, and hopefully you guys will be able to persuade me into procrastinating my time away on these stories more than I should ;)

Loras must have liked the Park Lane flat that he’d gone to see with Garlan, for a fortnight later, he was moved in, his things all brought up from Highgarden in the back of his brother's car and several taxis too, for Loras apparently had a lot of clothes. It was a week later that Renly was invited round to see it and, with Satin's permission of course, it was an offer that Renly gladly took up. Still in the midst of trying to sort out his own home, he was quite curious to see how a fully furnished flat in Mayfair looked, if only for inspiration purposes.

Indeed, he wasn't left disappointed: the flat was so huge that it took him and Loras half an hour almost to walk around and admire it adequately. It was beautifully furnished and just looking at it made Renly want to quit the day job and become an interior designer instead. Thick plush carpets lined the floors; heavy luxurious velvets adorned the bay windows; twinkling chandeliers hung from the ceiling. It was the most tactile apartment Renly had ever been in, and the part of him that was still a child wanted to touch everything, to wrap himself up in the curtains and then roll around in the carpets, all of which could probably be done whilst looking out over Hyde Park.

“I want to live here so badly,” Renly laughed to Loras as he sat down on an gorgeous cream sofa. “But I wouldn’t have thought this your sort of thing. It’s more Downton Abbey than New York Fashion Week.” 

Loras shrugged and sat down next to him, mindful enough apparently to leave a respectable gap between them. “It’s not my sort of thing,” he agreed, “but I'm told that renting a fully furnished place is more sensible for the time being, and the location’s pretty decent."

“It's more than _decent_ ,” Renly said with a chuckle, reclining lazily against the back of the sofa, hair flopping over his eyes. “But still, I wouldn’t have had you down for Park Lane either.” Mayfair was a swish area, but Renly wouldn't have imagined that it would appeal to Loras. It was the Millionaire's Row of London, mainly frequented now by very rich bankers and politicians. The queen had been born there; Winston Churchhill and Tony Blair had lived there too, and horrifyingly even, Renly was pretty sure that Tywin Lannister called Mayfair home whenever he was in the capital. It was one of the poshest areas of London but it was quiet, with very few young people and very little going on.

“Well I wanted to live in Camden,” Loras admitted, confirming Renly's thoughts. “But that lady I'm seeing, you know the one I'm supposed to _talk_ to, she intervened. She said that it wouldn’t fit in well with my new ‘lifestyle’.”

Renly laughed. He'd never met Loras' counsellor, and he probably never would, but he imagined that she must be a feisty woman indeed if she was able to take on Loras and stop him doing as he liked. "So what does your new 'lifestyle' entail then?" he asked, curious.

"Loads of things," Loras groaned. "But mainly being a boring teetotal who lives in boring areas apparently."

Renly smiled fondly. "I guess Soho was blacklisted too then huh?” he asked, knowing Loras too well.

Loras made a face. “Yep.”

“And Shoreditch too?”

“And most of East London,” Loras confirmed grudgingly. “So Mayfair it is, even though it will literally destroy my image when the paparazzi find out."

Renly laughed, putting a hand on Loras' arm. “Ah well,” he said, “It’s probably for the best.” He stretched, smiling a little. “And you know what Loras, I’ve always been curious. How did you ever end up with so much street cred anyway? I mean sure, you’re an ex-addict who smokes and drinks a lot, but when it comes down to it, you’re still a privileged white boy whose daddy is insanely rich. It’s not exactly _edgy,_ is it?”

Loras rolled his eyes and slapped Renly's hand off his arm, a gesture which was clearly affectionate. “You can say the same about loads of people," he argued. "Cara Delevigne's definitely as bad as me. Her grandmother was one of Princess Margaeret's ladies in waiting."

“Whatever you say," Renly chuckled, grinning at him. He supposed he of all people couldn't start getting worked up about elitism, not when he'd gone to Cambridge and had had a job handed to him on a plate by his brother. As much as he didn't particularly want to admit it, he and Loras were definitely one of a kind in that respect.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly saw Loras quite regularly now that he was back in London, and yet, oddly, Renly was never was invited to his Park Lane flat again. Every time he asked, Loras merely said that he was less busy than Renly, and that it made sense for him to come to Renly rather than the other way round.

In all honesty, it worked out well for Renly. The flats, or house perhaps, were slowly coming together and he was still quite busy directing electricians and whatnot. It did mean, however, that regardless of how hard Renly tried to avoid it, Loras often crossed paths with Satin. Usually, Renly managed to invite Loras round on those evenings that Satin was either at his own flat or at work, but it was definitely easier said than done. There were more than a few awkward moments; the most prominent perhaps had been when Loras had arrived a little early and had been the rather unfortunate witness of Satin emerging from Renly's bedroom in his work outfit, shirtless but with his bow tie as was usual on Fridays. Loras had been a little snide that night, but on the whole, but Renly found that it wasn’t half as bad as he would have imagined. They seemed to tolerate each other rather well, both of them usually polite enough if a little wary.

Whilst he didn't mind seeing Loras rather often though, Renly had to worry sometimes about quite how much else Loras had in his life. As far as Renly was aware, Loras essentially did nothing all day every day. He never had anything remotely interesting to tell Renly about how he'd passed his day, and when Renly asked, he was always met with a very feigned shrug and a casual insistence that he'd kept himself occupied. Not once either had Renly invited him over and been told that he was busy that day. Indeed, Loras' week seemed to revolve around Wednesday afternoons, which was when he met with his counsellor, and Saturday evenings, which was usually when Renly had him round. Presumably, Margaery saw him too, but Loras spoke rarely of what they'd got up to together. All in all, it seemed that Loras was probably very bored and very lonely most of the time.

It was with that in mind that Renly found himself feeling a little guilty on one of the rare Saturdays that he'd refrained from inviting Loras over. Instead for once, he was going out with Sansa to the bar where Satin worked in Brixton. It was an invitation that absolutely could not have been extended to Loras, and one that he'd have surely declined even if Renly had asked him, and yet it still troubled Renly's conscience. Loras had rang him a few days ago, clearly expecting to be told that he could come over as usual on Saturday, and the disappointment had been audible in his voice when Renly had told him otherwise. He'd seemed a little embarrassed too, as if perhaps he'd suddenly realised how desperate his disappointment made him look, and Renly had felt embarrassed for him.

He still felt a little guilty now, sat at the bar with a Jack Daniels and coke as he waited for Sansa to arrive. It was still very early in the evening and there were only a few other people there, one of whom clearly was eyeing Renly up every five minutes or so. It made Satin smile, and Renly had to smile too. Loras, he knew, wouldn't have been able to cope with that; he'd have been jealous; he'd have got extremely possessive, and possibly a bit angry. Satin on the other hand clearly just found it amusing. It was quite astonishing really how easy going he was in that respect, and it was one of the things Renly thought he'd miss the most when Satin went up north in September. That said though, he had to wonder too whether it was all too telling that he and Satin tended not to get jealous over any interest strangers showed in the other. An open relationship as it was, Renly would have expected at least a little jealousy if it was ever to be serious between them.

He was still pondering that when Sansa appeared, looking very out of place in the bar in her heels and dress, too feminine looking to have been even the most convincing of drag queens. She sat down beside Renly cheerfully though, and plonked a magazine in front of him.

Renly rolled his eyes. Even before he looked down he knew what the subject of the article she had to show him would be.

 _Loras Tyrell ditches the bleach as he’s photographed out for the first time since his February drugs scandal,_ he read. _Spotted hailing a cab in London’s trendy Mayfair, where the star is rumoured to be renting a flat, the former supermodel looked carefree and relaxed._

Shutting it with a dull thud in case Satin wandered over and thought it awkward, Renly let out a sigh, shaking his head. He knew that Loras had probably been anything but carefree and relaxed. As far as he was aware, the only time Loras stepped out of his front door was to get a cab from his flat to Renly's. His counsellor visited him at home, and so did Margaery. It was very rare that he left and he certainly didn’t want to be photographed.

Sansa leant over his shoulder. “He won’t be pleased will he?”

Renly laughed. “Nope.” He peeked again, looking for what clothes Loras was wearing. "That was last Saturday," he said, trying not to notice how thin Loras photographed as. "He was probably on his way to mine."

Sansa nodded and said nothing. Renly knew that she thought him walking on dangerous ground now that he was seeing Loras more than once in a blue moon. She thought it rash and incredibly risky, a situation where at least one of them was going to get their feelings hurt apparently. Quite honestly, Renly didn't disagree in the slightest; he was one hundred percent sure that Loras would get his feelings hurt the way that they were going, and yet it was a decision that he felt had to be left up to Loras.

“So how is he finding it back in London?" Sansa asked eventually when neither of them spoke.

“He seems all right,” Renly shrugged, thinking it true enough. “His sister goes round every other day or so to make sure he’s okay, and I’ve seen him briefly most Saturdays, whilst Satin is at work.”

Sansa looked at him intently. “And it’s okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Usually he comes over for coffee, or dinner that he never eats, and then he goes home.” Renly refrained from mentioning the incident where he'd accidentally allowed Loras to see Satin in his weekend attire, although it was quite possible that she already knew. Satin and Sansa crossed paths regularly and it was a most amusing story.

“And how does Satin find him?” Sansa asked, as if she could read Renly's mind perhaps. There was an odd look on her face though, one that Renly didn't really recognise and one that he couldn't quite decipher.

“Well I do try and avoid them having to be in the same room," he laughed, "but it happens occasionally. I think Satin’s a bit wary of him.”

“Because he’s an ex-boyfriend?”

Renly frowned. “I don’t think so actually. I think Satin’s quite comfortable in that respect. But you know what Loras is like. He’s rich, and more than a little bit famous; Satin doesn’t really know what to talk to him about. He and Loras are like chalk and cheese. If this was a hundred years ago, Loras would have been lord of the manor and Satin his servant.”

“Loras _can_ be a bit scary,” Sansa admitted. “I mean he’s outrageously gorgeous for one, and he’s not exactly chatty, is he? I mean, I remember when I first met him. I can understand why Satin might find him intimidating.”

“I can understand that too,” Renly laughed. “But what Satin might not realise is that Loras is probably way more intimidated by him than he is by Loras." A lot more so, he reckoned actually. Loras clearly felt threatened by Satin, and he clearly felt threatened more than a little bit.

“Yes,” Sansa agreed lightly, flicking her hair back over her shoulder as was her habit. “Though I reckon Satin probably does realise that actually. He's not stupid, and you've clearly chosen him over Loras.”

Renly just shrugged. He had no idea whether Satin was aware of how much Loras felt threatened by him.

“Actually, Renly,” Sansa added when Renly was silent. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about. About Satin and Loras, I mean.”

That sounded very ominous and Renly had to fight a frown coming to his face. He didn't like it when Sansa went all serious on him; it was unnerving, especially when it involved needing to talk about Loras. It took him very much back to a time and a place that he really would rather forget. He supposed though that it was something he probably needed to get used to; Loras, he imagined, would probably be rather keen on re-evaluating their friendship status as soon as Satin left for university, and whilst Renly intended to let him down as gently as possible, he knew that drama would probably ensue regardless.

“Well go on,” he laughed, the sound catching a little in his throat.

Sansa chewed on her lip for a good few seconds before answering. “Well, I think maybe that Loras isn’t particularly nice to Satin," she said slowly, eyes never leaving his face. "You know, when you're not explicitly watching."

Renly raised an eyebrow. “And where did you get that from?” he asked. It wouldn't have surprised him, but it was strange to hear it from Sansa. Satin and her weren't exactly prone to having long heart-felt discussions as far as he was aware.

“You know," she said, "from little things Satin has said. If you must know, he wanted to know what Loras was like with me when the two of you were going out." She paused, sighing when she saw Renly's face. "I don't think it's anything serious, just dirty looks and the like when you're not looking, or snide comments when you're out of the room, but still. It's hardly very nice."

Renly didn’t know what to say to that. He'd have liked to say that he was surprised and yet he knew that would be a lie. He was certainly disappointed in Loras, but he certainly wasn't surprised. Loras, he knew, could be vicious when he wanted to be. He was very territorial, and Renly got the distinct feeling that Loras still regarded him as _his_ territory regardless of the fact that they'd been separated for well over a year now. 

He'd just opened his mouth to ask Sansa for more details of Loras' alleged misconduct when he startled to see Satin himself came over. He had a smile on his face and he bent down to greet Sansa before slipping a menu into her hands. It seemed a classy enough gesture, but then Renly saw the silhouette of a naked man that adorned each and every page and he quickly changed his mind.

“Can I get the lady a drink?” Satin asked once Sansa had had time to glance at what drinks they offered.

“Yes please,” was Sansa's rather predictable reply, manners impeccable even despite the naked man that she'd been faced with, “A glass of your nicest red please." She then smiled up at him sweetly. "You can put it on Renly’s tab.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You can indeed,” he laughed. “And you can buy yourself a drink too if you like.” He got up from his seat. “Before that though, I want a chat.” Pulling on his arm, Renly guided him to the most deserted corner of the bar, a not particularly difficult feat considering that there was still only about a dozen people in it. "You won't get in trouble for not being at the bar?” he checked as they walked.

Satin laughed, the sound soft, barely audible over the bass; they were closer to the speakers now. “Nah," he said, "it’s expected of me that I flirt with customers. Good for business apparently. Keeps people coming back.”

Renly grinned, and then remembered his subject matter.

“So what’s up?” Satin asked, leaning back against the wall, his serving tray still in hand and his bow tie slightly askew.

It took Renly more than a few seconds to look away from Satin's bare chest but eventually he sighed and forced himself to bite the bullet. “Well Sansa was telling me that Loras hasn’t been being very nice to you," he admitted with more than a little shame. After all, it was his ex that they were talking about here, someone that he'd chosen to go out with.

Satin visibly cringed. “She wasn’t supposed to tell you that," he said quietly. 

“Lesson number one,” Renly sighed. “Never, ever tell Sansa something that you don’t want repeated. Or me for that matter. I'm probably a worse gossip than she is.” It was a sad fact but true. 

“Lesson learnt,” Satin said, shaking his head rather fondly. 

Renly raised an eyebrow. “So is it true? That Loras hasn’t been being very nice to you?” He felt a little like the head teacher at school, forced to make sure that everybody got along; it was a role he didn't much like. 

Satin deliberated for a few minutes before he answered. “Well," he sighed. "it’s just that I constantly get the feeling that Loras doesn't like me very much. It's really not a big deal, Renly. It's to be expected. He's your ex and I'm who you're with currently. It's normal that we're not best of friends."

"Well yes," Renly agreed, for it was normal. "But I won't stand for him being mean to you. I don't care if Loras loathes you with every fibre of his being. I still expect him to be respectful towards you, especially when he's in my fl-  _house,_ I mean."

Satin gave him a small smile. "It doesn't matter, Renly," he insisted quietly. "I don't mind."

"How do you not mind?" Renly protested. "It's common manners."

Satin paused, correcting his bow tie absent-mindedly. "Well it must be hard for Loras," he said eventually. "He's clearly a very lonely man, and he clearly lives for any attention you deign to bestow on him."

Renly sighed. Those words hit him painfully, like a punch to the chest. They were true words, he knew, but he sorely wished that they weren't. He didn't like it at all that Loras' happiness seemed to depend on him much of the time; it gave him a burden that he really didn't want to carry.

"Still," Renly protested weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "I won't have him be rude to you."

Satin shrugged, amused. "Renly," he said firmly, looking up so that he could meet Renly's eye. "I'll be heading off in a fortnight or so. It's just not worth it. Why embarrass him over something that won't particularly matter any more?"

Renly nodded feebly. He wondered if that was Satin's way of gently telling him that they wouldn't be a couple post September. Somehow, he very much thought so.


	47. Chapter 47

Renly felt very old indeed as he stood in Satin’s tiny flat and watched all his things be assembled in the cramped hallway to be taken to uni. It seemed like just yesterday that he’d been doing the same, loading everything into the back of Stannis’ car, and yet it had been at least six years since he’d even stepped foot inside university halls. Satin, on the other hand, had a whole three years still in front of him.

Those three years would be starting very soon; Arya would be arriving shortly now to pick him up for what would be at least a seven hour drive, an arrangement that she’d been happy to agree to, provided that Satin pay half her petrol. Her half-brother was apparently her favourite sibling and this was a good excuse to take herself up north to see him.

Satin had finished piling his stuff up now and he perched on top of his suitcase, taking a well-deserved sit down.

“Thanks for helping me,” he smiled, for it had been Renly who’d done most of the heavy lifting required, mostly because Renly rather liked feeling useful.

There was nothing further to do now though and so Renly just smiled and pulled a chair out of the kitchen to join Satin. They sat in silence then, both of them sitting quietly beside each other. It wasn’t a particularly uncomfortably silence; Satin was most certainly one of those rare individuals who allowed those, and yet Renly felt that they probably needed to talk about what would come next regardless. He thought it was rather evident that there was an unspoken agreement between them, a mutual assent perhaps that they’d be calling it a day from now on- something that had been made particularly clear by the exhausting amount of sex they’d had last night, and yet Renly reckoned that a verbal agreement was probably necessary too.

“Satin,” he murmured, turning to face him.

Satin shifted on top of the suitcase he was balanced upon. “Yes?”

Renly smiled, placing a hand on Satin’s arm. “I’m guessing that we’re calling things a day now right?” The words didn’t hurt per se but they made him feel rather strange; he’d grown used to having Satin around. He was a comforting presence, and someone whose skill set Renly would particularly miss.

Satin sighed though. “I reckon so,” he said. “I mean, four hundred miles is a long long way, Renly.”

“Yeah it is,” Renly agreed. “And three years is a long time.” He’d be thirty in three years’ time, and that was a rather terrifying prospect.

Satin smiled, eyes twinkling. “And besides,” he chuckled quietly. “You have another admirer.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to ask who Satin was referring to. “You know,” he said, “I have no intention of dating Loras even when you’re all the way up in Edinburgh.”

Satin looked genuinely surprised. “No?” he asked.

Renly sighed heavily. “No,” he said.

Satin cocked his head. “Why not? You clearly adore him. You can’t _not_ find him attractive.”

Renly groaned, resisting the urge to put his head in his hands. “I do like him, and I do find him attractive,” he admitted, “even if he does still look half anorexic these days, but it would just be a really bad idea, Satin. We’ve so much history and he’s not very well at the moment. It would just be really complicated and messy. That's a road I never want to go down ever again.”

Satin sighed. “Relationships are always complicated and messy at times, Renly.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Ours has never been,” he pointed out.

“No,” Satin laughed. “It hasn’t. We had fun, we had a really good time. We’ll still probably have a really good time whenever I’m back in London.” He smiled then, the corners of his mouth crinkling slightly as he looked up at Renly. “But here we are splitting up, parting on very amicable terms, neither of us particularly upset.”

“True,” Renly chuckled, for he had a point. “So what are you saying? Surely you of all people don’t think I should date Loras again?”

Satin paused, thoughtful. “No,” he said eventually. “I think you should either date him or gently remove yourself from his life. That’s what I think.”

Renly grimaced. Often he’d thought the same thing. He knew that this strange, very one-sided friendship probably wasn’t doing Loras any favours and yet the sad thing was that Renly had grown to enjoy his company again. He’d miss him if he insisted that they not see each other anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Renly saw Loras after Satin’s departure, he had made a painfully obvious effort. His clothes were evidently new- or at least ones that he didn’t wear often, his curls were immaculate, and he’d apparently decided to invest in a new aftershave, of which he’d put a tad too much on if he had been going for subtle.

It was to be expected, and yet Renly felt all too sorry for him. He wished that he hadn’t noticed at all and now he felt torn, unsure whether he should act oblivious to how nice Loras looked, and smelt, today, or whether he should flatter him a little by admiring him. He was very much caught between a rock and a hard place, Renly thought, for acting oblivious would do little for Loras’ self-esteem, whereas admiring him would give him false hope.

It was a tough call. In the end though, he opted for acting oblivious, and to Loras’ credit, there was only the tiniest flicker of disappointment in his eyes when he evidently realised that there would be no compliments for him today.

“How’s Satin getting on at uni?” he asked as he came through the hall into Renly’s brand new downstairs living room, almost finished now. “Is he enjoying himself?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I haven’t spoken to him much actually, thought I’d let him settle in and everything, but it seems like he’s having a good time. Arya at least told Sansa that she and her brother took him out and got him absolutely plastered in the process.”

“Well that’s nice,” Loras said, nodding along as he sat down on the sofa.

He didn’t quite manage to sound interested and Renly laughed, raising an eyebrow. “It’s all right, Loras,” he told him sweetly, handing him a cup of coffee before he sat down. “You can drop the pretence now. I’m quite aware that you and Satin didn’t get on, shall we say.”

Loras’ froze at that, looking for a brief moment like a rabbit caught in the headlights, and then he seemed to relax, chewing on his lip contemplatively. It was an old habit of his, and one that Renly had always found endearing. He tried not to let himself find it endearing now.

“Well?” he laughed, prodding one of Loras’ skinny shoulder. “Do you deny it?”

“No,” Loras said eventually with a shrug and a hint of his old fierceness. “I don’t. I didn’t like him and I probably wasn’t very good at hiding it. He was a wet blanket, so much of a doormat that the whole world and his wife could have walked all over him without him ever retaliating.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He thought Loras was wrong there. Satin, he reckoned, had a lot more steel than people gave him credit for; he was just rather good at not stooping to other people’s level. “What makes you say that he’s a doormat?” he asked flatly.

Loras shrugged again. “I’ll bet you fifty quid that he wasn’t the one who dared tell you we didn’t get on.”

“Well no,” Renly admitted, not liking that fact. “But that’s beside the point.” He turned towards him, meeting his eye. “Loras,” he said firmly. “You just can’t be like that with people. It’s not a nice quality in anyone and it’s definitely not a quality you want to have if you’re ever counting on having any more friends than just me.”

Loras’ mouth twitched ever so slightly at that and he had the grace to look a little ashamed. “Okay,” he said eventually, looking down at his hands moodily, a little resigned.

“So you’ll be nicer to Satin next time you see him?” Renly prompted.

A scowl unravelled across Loras’ face like a skein of wool that was being played with by a cat. “There’s going to be a next time?” he asked, looking up and unable to hide what he evidently thought of that. “You guys are staying together then?”

“No,” Renly laughed. “We’re not. But we’ll stay friends.” And proper friends, he thought. Satin would be the first of his ex-boyfriends that he reckoned he could say that about. His and Loras’ friendship would always be slightly on the toxic side, Renly imagined, regardless of how much time ever passed. “So next time,” he repeated, “you will be nicer to Satin if you see him again?”

Loras swallowed. “Yes, Renly,” he muttered.

Renly smiled and didn’t believe him for a second. “Great,” he laughed, picking up his own coffee.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras must have realised that he’d come off a little desperate the last time they’d seen each other, for the whole next week passed without any kind of message from him. Usually he’d text every other day or too, and ring at least a couple of times, if only to confirm that he could come over, and yet this week he was strangely silent.

It amused Renly a little. He knew exactly what Loras was trying to achieve with his silence: he was trying to seem casual, _aloof_ , like he didn’t care in the slightest that he hadn’t seen Renly this week, because of course he had plenty of other things to do and abundant other people to see. It was a universal tactic of men and women everywhere, and one that usually worked, Renly reckoned. With Loras, however, Renly knew that he had nothing at all else to do and absolutely nobody else to see.

It was feeling a little sorry for him thus that Renly decided to drop by Loras’ Park Lane flat one day after work. Loras, he knew, would probably appreciate the fact that he’d thought to visit and more importantly perhaps, Renly couldn’t help but feel very bored now that Satin was four hundred miles north and Sansa was still making the most of Arya’s absence by inviting Sandor round to their flat every evening.

The lights were on in Loras’ flat and yet Renly had to ring the bell three times before there was even any sound of movement from within; Loras, it seemed, was not accustomed to unexpected visitors. Eventually though, there was the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, followed by a long pause, no doubt where Loras was looking through the peephole to check who it was.

“Well you certainly took your time,” Renly laughed when the door eventually creaked open.

Loras paused, running a hand through his hair as he stood in the doorway. “You didn’t say you were coming over?” he said. He was in his pyjamas and he didn’t look as delighted to see him as Renly would have expected.  
.  
“No,” Renly said slowly, “I didn’t. Is it a problem?”

“Course not.” Loras opened the door a little to let Renly into the hall. “Can you just wait here for a minute though? I’ll go get changed and then we can go out somewhere?”

Renly raised an eyebrow, stunned. “You want to go out?” he clarified. “ _You?_ In central London?”

Loras only faltered for a moment. “Yeah sure,” he said. “I want to go out in central London. Just wait here and I’ll be right down.”

That sounded very suspicious and Renly wondered what reason Loras had for evidently not wanting him to come upstairs. He nodded though, noting the slight flicker of relief in Loras’ face before he turned and rushed up the stairs to get dressed.

Renly waited until he heard what was presumably Loras’ bedroom door closing upstairs before he followed him up, treading lightly on each step so that Loras might not hear him.

He’d been right to be suspicious, and he couldn’t help but sigh when he reached the top and was able to peer into the kitchen. Whilst there were thankfully no piles of cocaine lying around, the flat was unrecognisable from the last time he’d seen it. The elegant granite counters were covered in piles of plates and bowls, all dirty and all stacked up on top of each other precariously like some makeshift Leaning Tower of Pisa; the ash tray was overflowing with cigarette butts; empty packets littered every surface visible, and when Renly crossed the room to trail a finger across the table, it was sticky to the touch.

Amongst the mess was Loras’ considerable pile of medication. On top were Loras’ antidepressants, which were out of their cardboard packet and hopefully meant that Loras was taking them as he was supposed to. There was a clearly empty box of sleeping tablets next to them, and underneath, a packet of something else which Renly reckoned was for his anxiety.

He was still unfortunately looking when Loras appeared in the doorway, fully dressed now. He’d been much quicker than Renly had anticipated.

“Oh,” he said, grinding to a halt in the kitchen doorway. “You came up.”

Renly raised an eyebrow and didn’t bother to apologise for intruding without Loras’ consent. “Did a bomb go off in here or something?”

Loras shrugged. “Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “It’s a bit untidy. But in my defence, I’d have cleared up a little if I knew you were coming over.”

“A bit untidy?” Renly repeated. He cocked his head.

“Well yeah.” Loras slipped over to the counter where his medication was stacked and covertly pushed it behind the microwave, unaware probably that Renly had already got a long look whilst he’d been getting dressed.

Renly didn’t comment on it. He was well aware that Loras did not relish the fact that he was dependant on anti-anxiety pills to brave leaving the house; he also knew that Loras had had to be persuaded into taking the anti-depressants.

What he couldn’t prevent himself doing, however, was making sure that the rest of the flat wasn’t as bad as the kitchen. Walking down the landing though, he was soon disappointed.

“Which bedroom is yours?” he asked, once he’d peered in a couple and found them both with clothes all over the floor, the rich plush carpets that he’d so admired all but completely obscured by a multitude of creased shirts and jumpers, all of which probably had price tags in four figures.

Loras had remained silent, following on Renly’s heels rather reluctantly.

“I asked you a question,” Renly laughed wearily, running a hand through his hair. “Which bedroom is yours?”

Loras shrugged. “Any of them really.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Well which one do you sleep in?” he clarified.

“Depends.”

Renly sighed and peered in the nearest bedroom more closely. Indeed, the bed inside was slept in, the sheets and quilt rumpled. Moving on, he quickly discovered that the same could be said for the second, third and fourth bedrooms. Sadly perhaps, Renly got the feeling that Loras simply moved from one bedroom to another instead of ever changing the sheets or tidying up.

“How can you live like this?” he breathed, sinking down onto the bed in the fourth bedroom, the one which had evidently been intended to be the master.

“It’s just a bit untidy,” Loras repeated, sitting down beside him and surveying the mess before his feet.

“For the last time,” Renly told him, “this is not ‘a bit untidy’. My place is ‘a bit untidy’; this is chaos. How does Margaery even let you live like this?” He refused to believe that Loras’ sister approved of the state that Loras had got his lovely Mayfair flat in.

Indeed, Loras looked a little guilty. “She’s on strike,” he muttered, nudging a priceless shirt that lay on the floor with his toe. “Said she wouldn’t clear up after me anymore, that I need to learn to look after myself.”

“Well then get yourself a cleaner,” Renly laughed, incredulous. “God knows you can afford it. You could afford an army of cleaners, Loras. And a chef to cook for you, and a butler to bring it to you.”

Loras turned his nose up though. “This is my home,” he protested, kicking the shirt on the floor a little harder. “I don’t want any strangers in it. I’m doing fine on my own.”

Renly looked around and wondered how such a mess was at all preferable to having a little bit of help around the house. He supposed it was a pride thing. “Well you’re clearly _not_ doing fine on your own,” he pointed out.

“I am.”

“You are not,” Renly insisted, a little firmer this time.

Loras scowled, face darkening dangerously. “Just go home then,” he said lightly, loftily even. “I didn’t ask you to come round. This is my flat and I don’t care what you think of it.”

Renly knew then that he had to backtrack quickly. “All right, all right,” he laughed, picking up the shirt that Loras seemed intent on destroying. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“It’s fine,” Loras mumbled.

“Just excuse me a minute then,” Renly sighed, leaving him sat on the bed and going back down the stairs. He put the front door on latch before stepping out.

He had both Margaery’s and Garlan’s numbers in his phone and he dialled Margaery’s now, sitting down on the front step as it dialled.

She seemed a little confused when she answered and Renly didn’t blame her. They’d met only a few times and certainly didn’t know each other well. Quite honestly, he’d have felt a lot more comfortable phoning the ever cheerful Garlan, and yet he reckoned that Margaery was more appropriate in this case.

“Hey Renly,” she said though, her voice perfectly pleasant. “What’s up?”

“So Loras isn’t coping by himself,” Renly laughed ruefully.

There was a long pause on her end. “Oh,” she said eventually, “Are you at his then?”

“Yep. And it’s unrecognisable since the last time I saw it. He’s clearly not capable of living alone.”

“I know.” Margaery’s voice was weary somehow, and Renly wondered how much time and effort she’d spent on trying to make Loras clean up his act a little.

“Can’t he go back home?” he asked.

“Well he could,” Margaery said slowly, “but he won’t want to, and his counsellor doesn’t think that that’s a good idea either. It’d be like taking a step back, like giving up. Going back home is the easy option for him.” She sighed heavily. “And in the grand scheme of things, Renly, he’s not actually doing too bad. He’s been clean for over six months, which is a lot more than anybody expected of him.”

“That’s true,” Renly admitted; he hadn’t quite realised it had been that long. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he isn’t doing too well on his own. I don’t really get it. What’s his problem? Surely it’s not that hard to do some dishes occasionally and hang some clothes up?”

Margaery was silent again for a moment. “Well what you’ve got to understand, Renly, is that Loras doesn’t sleep. He’s exhausted most of the time. You see him at his best, because he _wants_ you to see him at his best. But getting out of bed in the morning is a challenge for him. It’s a good day if he can truthfully tell me that he’s put two of his ready-meals in the oven and heated them up.”

Renly sighed, shifting his position on the step. “So what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” was Margaery’s rather unhelpful reply. “I made sure it was tidy every few days before, but there was no point really. He has to learn.”

Renly ran a hand through his hair wearily. He was a bit of a slob too, but even he couldn’t deal with the chaos that was upstairs.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, Renly couldn’t leave without putting the flat back in a fit state, regardless of what Margaery said about it being pointless. He didn’t do all that much. He tackled only one of the four bedrooms, wanting to make sure that Loras had somewhere with clean sheets and a clear floor to sleep tonight. He also stacked the dishwasher and put all the empty ready meal packaging in the recycling outside. It didn’t go even halfway to restoring the gorgeous flat to its pre-Loras state, and yet Renly was comforted by the fact that the mess was at least only superficial; none of the damage would be permanent.

Loras protested throughout, and yet he did help Renly as much as he could once he’d realised that Renly wasn’t going to give up, putting clothes back on hangers dutifully even as he shot Renly dirty looks from across the room.

It was half past ten by the time he put his foot down. “You should go home now,” he muttered. “Got stuff to do before bed.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, half way through wiping the cigarette ash off the kitchen table. “Like what?”

“Stuff to prepare for that lady I see. She’s coming tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Renly paused, dishcloth still in hand. He supposed he couldn’t argue with that. “Am I allowed to ask what you have to do or is it private?”

“Not really,” Loras mumbled. “It’s nothing but a load of crap really. I’m supposed to be making a list of ten things that I like about myself.” He rolled his eyes and made quotation marks in the air. “Because if I don’t love myself, nobody else ever will apparently. It’s all a big waste of time really.”

Renly frowned. “I don’t think that’s a waste of time,” he said quietly. He thought it far from a waste of time. Loras had clearly had the confidence knocked out of him like the air was knocked out of an airbag during a particularly violent car crash. He thought it was most paramount that Loras got at least some of that confidence back.

Loras shrugged though, apparently uninspired.

“Well have you started your list?” Renly asked, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Yes.”

“And how many have you got so far?”

“Two.”

“Oh,” Renly refrained from commenting that that wasn’t very many. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are they?”

“That I’m close with my family, and that I like my hair.” Frowning, he tugged roughly at a curl. “Well usually I like it. It’s not so great when it’s a bit brittle like this.”

Renly smiled fondly, resisting the urge to tell Loras that he liked his hair too. Indeed, playing with Loras’ curls whilst lounging around in bed with him was one of the most nostalgic memories Renly reckoned he had of their time together. “Well what can you add?” he asked instead.

Loras shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard.”

Renly nodded, feeling a little sorry for him. He knew that he would never have had that problem if he had been asked to write the list himself. Even off the top of his head he could think of quite a few things. He was good at making friends and getting on with people; he had a very enviable sense of humour; he had a good degree and a good job, and most importantly perhaps, he was devilishly handsome.

Loras couldn’t be entirely devoid of nice qualities though, and so Renly looked him up and down, trying to find something nice to say. Appearance wise, there were lots of nice things to say, too many to count actually. He was a nice height, he had amazingly good skin, especially considering that he’d been a cocaine addict for several years, and he had a bone structure that most aspiring models would kill for.

“Well your cheekbones should definitely be on it,” Renly jested. “And those small dainty feet of yours.” He nudged the nearest one with his foot, bumping his shoe against Loras’.

Loras rolled his eyes though. “I don’t think that’s quite what she had in mind.” He wrinkled his nose. “She said I’m only allowed one appearance related one, and I’ve already used that on my hair.”

Renly nodded and returned the drawing board, thinking hard. “Well you’re a good model,” he said, “and you’ve made a very good living in your own right.” He smiled, thinking back to what he’d liked about Loras when he’d first gone out with him. Loras had been feistily independent back then, admirably so, and he’d invariably been good fun. He’d lost a lot of that now, but Renly still reckoned there would be a few things to put on Loras’ list.

“And despite that bad boy image you’ve somehow cultivated, you’re actually quite sweet,” Renly told him. “Really properly sweet actually.” He grinned, nudging Loras’ foot again. “Especially when you’re asleep in the car and not wearing a hat.”

Loras frowned, not understanding. “Not wearing a hat?” he asked, confused before he then cottoned on, his face changing in a flash. “You bastard. You promised me you wouldn’t take off my hat. That was a breach of trust right there.”

“Ah,” Renly said, grinning innocently at him. “Well he who snoozes loses.”

Loras narrowed his eyes, and Renly ducked just in case.


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indulge me in my procrastination guys :D

Renly couldn’t help but yawn as he dragged himself into work the next day. He’d left Loras’ a lot later than he'd intended and hadn’t had half as much sleep as he would have liked, but even now, his eyelids heavy from tiredness, he was comforted by the fact that he and Loras had eventually managed to think of the extra eight things to put on his list. It had made Loras smile and Renly reckoned that that was well worth having lost a few hours of sleep. It was rare these days that Loras actually smiled.

Sansa was sat at his desk when he came in, busy rifling through her portfolio of pictures and reordering them. She’d evidently got some new ones taken and Renly bent to admire them over her shoulder. They had obviously been taken for some small fashion line or another and Renly hoped to god that Ned Stark never saw them. Her shoes were higher than high and the neckline a lot lower than low. Her father would have a heart attack.

“You look really hot there,” Renly told her though as he sat down.

“Says the gay guy,” Sansa laughed, smiling up at him and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Renly shrugged, returning the smile. “I can appreciate when women are attractive," he protested. "I just don’t want to sleep with them.”

Sansa nodded, closing her portfolio with a snap. "Have you ever?" she asked.

Renly turned his computer on, suppressing a yawn. “Have I ever what?”

Sansa rolled his eyes, evidently irritated by how slow he was being. “Slept with a woman?”

Renly grinned, reclining lazily in his chair. “Oh that. Once. Back when I was in my last year of sixth form. Out of curiosity really.” He winked at her. “Needless to say, I had a lot of female friends who were lining up for the job.” He’d had far too many actually, a good couple of whom had cried when he’d come out back in year ten. Sansa, he thought, would probably have been one of them had they known each other back then.

Now though, Sansa was smiling, the crush she’d had on him long in the past now, Sandor Clegane the apple of her eye. “And did you enjoy it?” she asked.

Renly shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “It was all right," he yawned. "It wasn’t unpleasant, just a little dull. I didn’t have a particularly great time and I doubt she did either.” He stretched a little, his back making an unpleasant clicking noise. "In fact, _she_ definitely didn't. You girls take so bloody long to orgasm."

Sansa raised an eyebrow. "Well we just take time and effort," she said loftily. "We're more complicated than men."

Renly laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Well that's why men are better," he chuckled. "We're easy to please. You'll never hear a guy bitching about how his partner failed to get him off last night." Indeed, he didn't think he could remember a time when he'd slept with someone and both of them hadn't come. Loras had been particularly easy to bring off, and Satin had almost been able to orgasm on demand. In fact, none of his previous boyfriends had been at all hard to please.

"Well women present more of a challenge," Sansa argued. "It's exciting. It takes skill and finesse to please a woman."

Renly grinned. "Or a decent vibrator right? I've always heard that does the trick too."

Sansa sat up straight in her chair, a slight pinkish tinge coming to her cheeks. "Well _real_ men don't need a vibrator to please a woman," she protested.

Renly felt his grin widen. "So enlighten me then. How does Sandor get you off?" He didn't particularly want to think about what Sansa did with the beast of a man that she called her boyfriend and yet he couldn't help wind her up a little.

Indeed Sansa's cheeks turned as red as a beacon. "Renly!" she hissed. "That's private. That would be like me asking you how Satin used to get you off."

Renly smiled sweetly at her. "Well," he said, resisting the urge to wink, "if you really want to know, what he used to do that was really amazing was to take m-"

Sansa put her hands over her ears and turned her face away. "Please stop," she said, "I really don't need to hear the crude details."

Renly was a little amused by that, for often, when it suited her, Sansa really quite liked to hear the details. He pondered about telling her anyway and then was distracted by the sound of his phone buzzing from inside his jacket pocket. Looking at it, he was not surprised to see that it was a text from Margaery. He was more surprised though when he read on to find out that she wanted to meet up for lunch, today no less and with a time and a place included. It was hardly a surprise that she might want more of an extended chat with him and yet it wiped the smile from his face immediately. He’d managed to not think about Loras too much this morning and her text brought it all immediately back. He couldn't help but wonder whether Loras had already undone all the work he’d put in last night into making his flat a vaguely habitable place to live

It was only when Sansa nudged him that he realised she’d been speaking to him and he’d been zoning her out.

“Sorry,” he said, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “Head was in the clouds.” Or in Loras' flat more like.

Sansa rolled her eyes and had apparently recovered from her earlier embarrassment. “I was saying that Arya got back a few days ago.”

Renly nodded along, hearing and understanding the words but not particularly listening. “She did?”

“Yes. Trust her to go up to see Jon and just stay there. I was starting to wonder if she’d ever deign to come back, not that I would have complained. The flat’s been so tidy and nice with her gone. She could have stayed forever as far as I was concerned.”

“What’s she been doing up there?”

“All sorts. Motorbike races and getting in brawls from the sound of it. I didn’t really listen. There was something about watching Lord of the Rings on loop too.”

Renly nodded. “That’s cool.”

“And she told me that Satin’s getting on well.”

“Yeah?” That wasn’t news to Renly. Satin had texted him several times to tell him that he was settling in fine. It was ironic, Renly thought, how well Satin seemed to be doing in his dingy new room in Edinburgh and how badly Loras was doing in his multi-million pound flat in Mayfair.

“Yes," Sansa said sharply, as if she realised perhaps that she had almost none of Renly's attention. "she said that his room in halls is rather small and shabby, because he went for the cheapest option, and that the shared bathrooms were gross.” She gave a small laugh. "And for Arya to describe anything as dingy or gross that's seriously bad news. But he's happy and Jon’s showing him the ropes apparently. Arya said they got on quite well.”

Renly raised a smile. “Great."

His reply was met with a loud sigh and Sansa prodded his shoulder rather hard. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You’re gone all quiet all of a sudden. It's very unlike you.”

It was unlike him and Renly bit back a sigh. “Oh you know, _life_ ,” he mumbled.

Sansa merely raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “By which you mean Loras?” she clarified.

“Loras,” Renly agreed reluctantly.

“Well what’s wrong now?" Sansa's voice was a little disdainful and Renly wondered whether she was about to go on a rant about how unwise it was that he and Loras were seeing so much of each other again. She'd done that rather often recently.

“Well I worry about him," Renly admitted all the same. Running a hand wearily through his hair, he filled her in on the state of Loras’ flat.

Sansa sat silently through his explanation and then fixed him rather sternly. "Well that's not good at all," she said quietly, "But I don’t really see how it’s your problem, Renly. I’d leave his sister to deal with it. You two are just supposed to be friends. This isn't your problem to solve.”

Renly shrugged. It wasn’t his problem, but he felt it as keenly as if it was.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly met Margaery for lunch in a small place just off Oxford Street. She was dressed more casually than he'd ever seen her, in a thick jumper and jeans, and yet she still was drawing admiring glances from all the men around her. Renly was unsurprised. He knew from experience that men and women alike tended to gravitate towards attractive people regardless of what they were wearing. Both he and Margaery could have stepped out in a bin bag and still have been the most attractive pair there.

"First things first," Margaery said as Renly sat down beside her. "Loras can never know that we met up to talk about him."

Renly nodded, wincing a little. He knew that they both had Loras’ best interest at heart but it felt a little like a betrayal to go behind Loras’ back and discuss his failings with his sister. It was necessary though and so he swallowed his guilt.

“So,” he said. “We’re surely in agreement that Loras can’t go on like this?”

Margaery took a long sip of the drink in front of her; an orange cocktail of sorts that looked quite out of place at midday. “Yes,” she said eventually. “He can’t. He’s getting into bad habits. A tidy room is a tidy mind after all.”

That amused Renly a little; he remembered well how he'd used to always insist on tidying his room before he sat down to write an essay at university. A tidy room was indeed a tidy mind, and it had really helped him procrastinate too. “Well couldn’t he go and live with you?” he ventured. "You could surely keep him tidy and in check."

Margaery swilled her drink. “I’ve offered,” she admitted. “But he doesn’t want to. Somehow I think living with four female university students, three of which fancy him like crazy, isn’t quite up his street.”

That made sense and Renly sighed deeply, wondering if there was any solution at all to be found. "Then couldn’t you go there to live then?"

She raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know Loras?" she asked. "He doesn’t want someone to come and nanny him. It’d be different if the circumstances were different but hell will freeze over before Loras admits that he can't live on his own." She sighed heavily, gesturing to the waitress to bring Renly a drink too. "Him and I should really have got a flat together in the first place, but it's too late now. He's as stubborn as anything and regardless of how I phrase it he knows that I'd just be coming to look after him."

Renly _did_ know Loras and yet her words disappointed him all the same. His drink had arrived now and he was glad that he'd followed Margaery's lead and ordered something alcoholic. He reckoned he'd need it. “Well couldn't you go for weekends then at least?” Renly asked her, exasperated. "Just to help him out a little? I mean, you're his sister. You have to do _something_."

Her other eyebrow arched. “I do go and stay with him on weekends,” she said coolly. “Each and every weekend.”

Renly cringed and took a large gulp of his drink. “Oh,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know that.”

“Because he doesn’t want you to know that,” she laughed, the sound a little bitter. “Loras is all about image; he always has been. He wants you to think of him as independent and mature and sophisticated. He doesn't want you to see him as the washed up twenty-two year old who can't even get his shit together enough to heat up a ready meal." Her eyes softened suddenly. "It's quite sweet actually, how long it takes him to get ready to come and see you. It's ironic really. He's desperate to look casual, like he hasn't tried, and yet he'll try on a thousand virtually identical shirts before he picks what apparently is the right one."

That didn't surprise Renly in the slightest and yet it stung to learn that the piles of discarded clothes on the floor were apparently for his benefit. “Right,” he sighed. "So he obviously cares what I think, which is something that we can use to our benefit right?"

Margaery raised an eyebrow. "Continue," she said warily.

"Well from what I gather, he'll clean up his act as long as I'm around to see it right?" Somehow, Renly got the feeling that what he was planning on saying next wouldn't go down well with the young girl sat opposite him.

Margaery seemed to sense that already. "Yes," she said slowly, as if she was reluctant to agree.

"Well then why don’t I have him for a couple of days a week? So that he’s only on his own a few days at a time.”

Indeed, Margaery’s eyes narrowed visibly. “You think that’s better?” she said sharply. “In any shape or form? I'm quite aware that he's very conscious of what you think of him, but I'm not sure that I should be encouraging him in that at all.”

Renly shrugged. In many ways he agreed with her, but she hadn't exactly had any grand solutions herself. “Well I've got a spare room now," he said, a little proudly. Indeed, he had to wonder a little guiltily whether his suggestion to Margaery had a lot to do with his eagerness to make use of those spare rooms. "If he came for two days during the week say, I'd hardly see him really. I'm out from seven thirty until the evening. But it'd give him an incentive to get himself a little more together."

Margaery inhaled deeply. She didn't look pleased. She looked as if she had a thousand and one objections.

"Well?" Renly asked her though. "Have you any better ideas?"

“I’ll give you a week’s trial,” she said eventually, "and if there’s anything inappropriate you’ll have me to answer to.”


	49. Chapter 49

“So we’re going to lay down some house rules,” Renly laughed as Loras sat down on the bed that was going to be his for the next two days, for Loras of course had all but jumped at the prospect of spending a significant amount of time with him.

Now, though. Loras looked less than impressed. He raised an eyebrow. “House rules?" he asked. It was still early in the morning and he tucked a lock of slightly wet hair behind his ear.

“Yes," Renly told him, glancing at his watch to check he wasn't going to be late for work. " _House rules._ You know why you’re here right?”

Loras clenched his teeth, his posture stiffening. He'd leapt at the chance to come round this morning and yet that didn't mean that he was ready to admit his failings. “Because you think that I’m turning my flat into a hovel right?” he asked, voice tight.

“You _are_ turning your flat into a hovel,” Renly corrected, laughing. “But yeah, you got the gist.”

Loras glared at him, unimpressed. “It’s not a hovel,” he protested. “It’s just a bit unt-“

Bending a little, Renly placed his palm over Loras' mouth. “If I hear ‘a bit untidy’ used in the context of your flat again," he chuckled, "I will kick you out before you’ve even stayed the night. It will be a one way taxi back to your hovel.”

Loras duly shut up and Renly was able to remove his hand.

“So,” Renly grinned, straightening his tie. “Going by what your standards of 'tidy' apparently are nowadays, I’m going to expect you to keep your room extremely extremely tidy." He sat down next to Loras, the bed dipping under his weight as their thighs touched. "And when I come home, I’ll expect you to have heated up your ready meal for lunch, and I’ll expect you to help me with the evening meal.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Of course, Renly.”

Renly grinned. “Understood?”

Loras looked a little exasperated. “Yes," he said. " _Tidy_.”

Renly gave him a small smile. He'd have liked to leave it at that, but Margaery's warning rang still in his ears. He knew that he had to give Loras no false hope, that he had to be crystal clear, even if it did mean making things a little awkward. "And you're aware aren't you, Loras," he asked gently, turning to face him again, "that nothing will come of these couple of days? I'm asking you to stay as a friend, not as anything more.”

Loras didn’t even flinch; he was evidently getting better at this. “I get that,” he said shortly.

“Good,” Renly smiled, feeling suddenly a lot better. He rose, patting Loras on the shoulder. “So I’m off to work now. I’ll see you about seven okay?” It would be nice, he thought, to come home to a house that wasn't cold and empty for a change. Satin, having never lived with him, had always come round later in the evening; he'd never been there waiting for him. And as much as Renly hated to admit it, he'd hated living alone ever since he and Loras had split up. Strangely, it had never bothered him before; he'd always quite enjoyed living the life of a bachelor.

He was half way down the stairs when he heard Loras call him back. Duly, he turned. "Yes?"

“One last thing,” Loras said, a little out of breath as he halted at the top of the stairs. “Can we not spread it around that I’m here. Can we keep it on the down low?”

“Sure,” Renly laughed. “Don't worry I'm not planning on ringing up Petyr Baelish and letting him know you're here. Can I ask you why though?”

Loras looked a little sheepish. “Because I don’t want my sister to find out,” he admitted, sitting down on the top step.

Renly felt a little guilty at those words; he almost wanted to tell Loras that his sister was quite aware that he was here, and that she disapproved greatly. “And why’s that?” he asked all the same, curiosity getting the better of him despite the fact that he really needed to be getting off to work.

Loras paused, chewing his lip and peering down the stairs at Renly. “Because she doesn’t think we should see each other anymore," he said eventually, rather tactfully perhaps. "She doesn’t think it’s good for me.”

Renly sighed and came back up the stairs, sitting on the step below Loras. “You know, Loras,” he said softly. _“Objectively,_ I don’t think it’s good for you either.” He'd thought that from the off-set; it was quite clear that the two of them being friends was never going to be the best of ideas, not when Loras admitted he still had feelings for him. They'd gone down that road now though and Renly intended to make the best of it.

Loras shrugged, apparently unperturbed. “I don’t care,” he said, stretching out his legs down the stairs. “Unless you don't want me here, that is?"

Renly laughed, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

Loras smiled and Renly smiled back before heading back down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly didn’t know what to expect when he came home from work that evening. Sansa had spent the whole day telling him what a terrible idea it was; Brienne had spent the whole of their lunch break implying what a terrible idea it was, and Jaime, having heard the gossip on the grapevine, had laughed in Renly's face and told him outright that it was the most ridiculous idea he had ever heard in his life. In many ways, Renly kind of agreed with all of them, and yet he pushed that to the back of his mind. He reckoned he’d quite enjoy having Loras to himself for a couple of days or so, and his excitement at being able to have people to stay was far far stronger than any misgivings he had.

Loras was sat in the brand new downstairs kitchen when Renly came in, and he looked quite presentable. Renly was pleasantly surprised; he'd half expected to come in to find that Loras had left a trail of destruction behind him.

“How was your day?” Renly asked, putting the kettle on to make a cup of well needed coffee. Sansa, whilst very lovable, had been more than a little irritating today. She'd been so intent on explaining the many reasons why Loras staying with him was such a bad idea that she'd barely shut up for a minute. Renly had almost wished it had been one of the days she spent pursuing her modelling, and he'd almost even been glad when Stannis had done his rounds and she'd had to temporarily put a sock in it.

"My day was all right," Loras told him over the low rumble of the kettle. He didn't sound overly sure though.

"Only okay?" Renly questioned, turning to look at him. “Did you manage the ready meal?”

“Yes.”

“And are your clothes all over the floor yet?”

Loras rolled his eyes, unimpressed, as if Renly had just called him an idiot. “Evidently not," he said tightly.

“But it’s not evident at all?” Renly laughed. "I saw the state of your flat the other day. It was a right tip. I've never even seen Sansa's sister make such a mess and she's way way more of a slob than you are."

Loras' expression remained stony. “Well I’m going to be tidy if you’re bloody inspecting me aren’t I?” he asked, a little scathing.

Renly grinned. “You might not.” He turned away to get some stuff out of the fridge for dinner. It was only a stir fry that he was planning on making but he’d be doling out the jobs evenly regardless. Loras would definitely get the easy jobs though: the ones where he couldn’t fuck up too badly. He’d never been particularly good at cooking even when they were together and Renly wasn't going to start expecting great things of him now.

“Um Ren,” Loras said as soon as Renly's back was turned. “I have some stuff to give you actually. Before I change my mind.”

Renly turned back around and was taken aback to see Loras pushing a few packets of white powder across the table towards him. They were identical to the ones that he and the others had found hidden around what had used to be his upstairs flat and Renly couldn't help himself leaping to conclusions. Raising an eyebrow though, he tried to force himself to be rational. Loras appeared quite calm; he evidently hadn't spent the entire afternoon getting high. Renly imagined he'd look a lot more guilty if he had, and he certainly wouldn't be admitting to it now.

"Explain," Renly told him.

Loras shrugged, nudging the packets further away from himself. “Well I knew that you’d searched your flat but I didn’t really trust you to have been thorough enough.” He looked up at Renly coolly. “I didn’t go in your room or anything though.”

Renly sighed and picked up the packets, tipping the first one quickly down the sink just in case Jaime turned up and fancied flogging them again. “Well I’ve got to give it to you,” he sighed wryly. “We searched those three rooms upstairs from top to bottom. Where the fuck did you hide these?”

Loras shrugged again. “Two of them were in the sofa cushion cases, and the other three were in the hollow bit beneath the bath.” He frowned, looking down at the table as if it suddenly interested him. “Also, unless you randomly chucked out some washing powder recently, I think you might have been washing your clothes with it for some time.”

Renly groaned. “Ah well,” he laughed, unable not to appreciate the brilliance of some of Loras' hiding places. “Nobody’s come up to me to tell me I smell of crack cocaine quite yet.” He finished tipping the rest of the packets down the sink. “And Loras?”

“Yes?"

“It’s really good that you handed them over to me.” He smiled. "I'm proud you know."

Loras just shrugged and rose to grab a chopping board off one of the counters. He evidently didn’t want to talk about it much and so Renly continued busying himself with dinner.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner passed uneventfully and Renly was feeling quite pleased with himself by the time that they sat down on the sofa to watch a little television. Despite the warnings that Margaery, Sansa, Brienne and Jaime had given him, everything seemed to be running quite smoothly. He and Loras had toed the line well between friendly and overly familiar quite well, he thought.

Now was no different. Sat on the same sofa but with an appropriate gap between them, Renly reckoned even Margaery would have been impressed. She'd surely have been able to find no fault with their conduct. There certainly hadn't been anything inappropriate and Renly thought it impossible that there would be. Loras was clearly on his best behaviour and he was as well.

Indeed, the silence was comfortable between them, and it was only when the adverts came on that Loras evidently felt the need to fill it. “Do you miss Satin?” he asked suddenly, bringing his legs up onto the sofa as he turned to Renly.

The question surprised Renly and yet he supposed it a reasonable enough one. Satin, after all, had been a huge part of his life whether Loras liked it or not. "Well yeah," he admitted. "I do miss him. It's odd without him." That was true, and yet Renly had surprised himself by how well he was coping in Satin's absence. Being alone again was strange, but it wasn't particularly unpleasant. He definitely found comfort in the fact that Satin was apparently having a good time up in Scotland.

“And will you be dating again soon?”

That was bordering on less acceptable and Renly stiffened, wary of what direction Loras intended to take this in. “Um probably not,” he told him, verging on the safer, and probably truer, side. “I reckon I'll just keep it quite casual for a while.” He forced himself to grin, to try and diffuse some of the tension that that question had brought. “I mean, I don’t really want another relationship right now but I can’t pass up on the perks of a boyfriend altogether can I?”

Loras laughed and it was a real laugh for once, one that brought dimples to his thin cheeks. “Renly,” he said, voice a little fond. “What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sex?”

Renly had to think about that; his first instinct was to tell him not very long at all and then he remembered the painfully dry spell that he’d suffered through after splitting up with Loras. That had been unbearable, he remembered, as if he'd been lost in the desert and hadn't even had the will to even try to search for some water. “Like eight, nine months,” he admitted.

Loras couldn’t quite hide his surprise and Renly had to laugh.

“You were expecting me to say like three days weren’t you?”

Loras looked slightly guilty. “Maybe like a fortnight?” he said sheepishly.

Renly grinned, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa and getting comfortable. “Well what can I say,” he chuckled. “Those eight or nine celibate months were painful. You weren't wrong with your assumptions about me. It's true. I like sex. Is that such a crime though?”

“No,” Loras shrugged. “Everyone likes sex. Because it feels good.”

“Indeed it does,” Renly laughed, wondering if he'd ever actually met anyone who didn't claim to enjoy sex. Even Sansa, prim and proper as she was, seemed to enjoy whatever it was that she and Sandor did together. Whether you were in a couple or part of a one night stand, sex was undoubtedly enjoyable. It was life's greatest pleasure, Renly reckoned, ranking considerably above even food, which was pretty damn awesome if he said so himself. That said though, a curiosity suddenly gripped him.

“Loras,” he ventured, “can I ask you a question?”

Loras shrugged. “Sure.”

Renly turned to look at him. “What’s better, coke or sex?”

Loras raised an eyebrow; he didn't look impressed. “ _That’s_ your question?" he clarified.

Renly grinned. “Yep. Sorry if it's a bit personal."

Loras rolled his eyes. “Forget it being personal, way to be unoriginal, Ren. That's like the most asked question on the internet."

"Go on though,” Renly chuckled, “Humour me.”

Loras deliberated for a few moments and then sighed. “But there's no answer," he said shortly. "It's subjective; it'll be different for everyone.”

“And I’m asking for _you_ ,” Renly laughed. He gave Loras' shoulder a gentle nudge.

Loras sighed again, more heavily this time, running a hand through his curls and leaving them very messy. “Is coke better than sex?” he asked himself quietly. “You know what, I don’t really know. They're both pretty awesome."

Renly grinned. “Aw come on. That's not a satisfactory answer in any way shape or form.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Fine," he said shortly. "Well I guess objectively, coke feels better, but it’s not as simple as that.”

“Explain.”

Loras leant back against the sofa cushions and looked up at the ceiling. “Well," he murmured, "when I used to smoke crack, the high would be like heaven, pure euphoria for fifteen minutes." He sighed, a hand rising to push his hair out of his eyes. "And then that high would fade, and I’d be alone in my hotel room again, facing a long and painful come down by myself.” He paused, deliberating. “With sex, it's the other way around. However long we fucked would be less intense, but there was never that nose dive afterwards. You’d still be there, we’d still be tangled up together, and I used to feel good about myself after sex. I’d feel confident, and safe I guess, rather than agitated and paranoid.”

Renly nodded. “Well that makes sense,” he murmured. It was a surprisingly honest answer, he reckoned, and he had to respect Loras for that.

Loras shrugged though. “I should probably go to bed,” he said quietly, and Renly got the distinct feeling that he was regretting how honest an answer he'd given.


	50. Chapter 50

Loras went to bed quite early and Renly didn't bother staying up much later than him; there was only so much fun that could be had sitting on a sofa by oneself. It was perhaps a poor choice though, and far from tired yet, Renly found that he slept lightly all evening, drifting in and out of one dream after another.

He was unsurprised thus to wake in the early hours of the morning, to the distinct sound of footsteps on the stairs. After years of living in an upstairs flat by himself, it was an unfamiliar sound to him and it was only after being awake for a good few moments that he remembered that he had both a downstairs now and someone currently staying.

It worried him a little that Loras was evidently out of bed, and pulling some clothes hastily on before venturing out onto the landing, Renly followed him down the stairs. Whilst a tiny, very suspicious part of him was still expecting to come down and find Loras arranging a pile of white powder into little neat lines, he was pleased to find Loras innocently stood at the kitchen sink, filling a glass with water. He'd evidently just got out of bed, for his curls were rather rumpled from sleep, sticking up wildly in all directions as if he'd been plugged into an electricity socket. Renly couldn't help but smile at the sight. Although those curls were significantly shorter now, he had fond memories of Loras’ hair looking such a state, albeit usually because he’d had his hands in it all evening.

“Can’t sleep?” Renly asked him.

Loras turned around; he didn’t seem particularly surprised to see Renly standing behind him. “No,” he said, taking a sip of his water. “Sorry if I woke you. I was just getting a drink.”

“It’s all right,” Renly laughed, leaning against one of the new wooden kitchen counters and stifling a yawn. “You slept at all tonight then?”

“Yeah,” Loras said doubtfully. “A little. But then I woke up.”

Renly wondered if that meant he was still suffering from those nightmares that Garlan had first told him about. Considering that Loras seemed in a rather honest mood tonight, he decided to risk asking. “You still have those bad dreams then?” he ventured tentatively, wondering if this was going to be a sore spot for Loras and his pride.

Loras shrugged though; he didn't seem particularly bothered. “Yeah,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if to tame it. “Sometimes.”

Renly nodded. He couldn't feel a little pity hearing that; no adult, he thought, deserved to suffer from bad dreams on a regular basis. Sleeping had always been something Renly took for granted and the thought of being tired but unable to sleep was completely alien to him. Had Margaery's warning not still echoed in his mind, he might have given Loras a hug, despite knowing that such a gesture would probably be unwise. “Want to watch TV or something?" he asked instead. "To take your mind off it?”

Loras looked half tempted and then shook his head. “No,” he said, half a yawn, “I’m supposed to try to get back to sleep.”

Renly didn't know what people with insomnia were recommended to do and so he just nodded. “All right," he said. He led Loras back up the stairs. Out of habit, he almost led Loras back into his bedroom too, before remembering that he and Loras certainly didn't share a bedroom anymore. That, Renly thought, would definitely fall under Margaery's category of inappropriate things that definitely should not happen.

He did, however, follow Loras into the spare room that he'd been given for the two days he would be staying. It had used to be the living room and Renly still found it strange to see a bed in it where one of the sofas had used to be. It was even stranger watching Loras get into that bed and Renly couldn't help but feel suddenly rather nostalgic. Loras had been uncomfortable to sleep next to, all sharp angles and exceptionally bony, but he'd been pleasantly cuddly by nature if not by shape.

Once Loras seemed settled under the covers, Renly sat down on the side of his bed. “You going to be all right?” he asked.

Loras looked a little affronted at that and Renly had to laugh. The temptation to ruffle Loras’ feathers a little suddenly became a lot stronger.

“And do you want to leave the light on or anything?” he teased, a smile stretching across his face.

Loras glared at him. “It’s not those sort of bad dreams, Renly,” he hissed, eyes narrowed. “I’m not _scared_ of anything.”

Renly grinned even more widely. “You sure?" he laughed, "Because I can always check under the bed to see if there’s any monsters?”

“I think I'll pass.” Loras’ tone was venomous and if looks could have killed, Renly reckoned he would have been dead several times over. That said, Renly suspected that secretly, Loras rather enjoyed being teased. Teasing was a universal sign of affection and Renly knew how dearly Loras enjoyed affection.

Renly didn't think it wise to push it any further though, and giving him a rather gentle smile this time, he got back up to his feet. “I'll see you in the morning," he told him, flicking off the light as he left.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras stayed another night after that but Renly waited until the end of the week to call Margaery. As far as he was concerned, the two days had been a success- Loras had kept the few things he'd brought with him perfectly tidy and he'd seemed more comfortable around him than Renly would ever have expected. He doubted, however, that Margaery would share his enthusiasm.

“So…?” he laughed when she eventually picked up. “Am I allowed to have him next week or not? On a strictly friendly basis of course.”

There was a long pause. “Well,” she said eventually and the tone of her voice made clear every single doubt she had. “Seeing as Loras has apparently decided that I’m going to be kept in the dark about these little rendezvous of yours, I’m not in much of a position to judge how it went.”

She sounded a little put out about that and Renly grinned, pacing around his kitchen. “Well how does he seem?”" he asked. As far as he was concerned, Loras had seemed a lot better. He hadn't seemed so nervous; he’d been smiling a lot more. He'd looked _happy_ and Renly couldn't remember the last time he'd have been able to say that.

“He seems _okay_ ,” Margaery said hesitantly though.

Renly rolled his eyes, switching his phone to his other ear. “Don’t lie,” he said. “He’s much better than he was.”

“Fine,” she said shortly. “He’s seems lot better. But that doesn’t mean this is a good idea.”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes even though she wasn't there to see. “I swear there was nothing inappropriate,” he told her. "We were as good as gold, I promise. We were like proper friends for once."

“That still doesn’t mean it’s a good idea,” Margaery said bluntly. “The fact that Loras has avoided telling me proves that even _he_ knows it’s not a good idea.”

“Actually no,” Renly insisted, his patience beginning to run out. “All that proves is that he knows _you_ won’t think it’s a good idea. Those are two quite different things, Margaery. He won't necessarily share your opinion. He's his own person you know."

Margaery was quiet for a long time and Renly could tell she wasn't happy. “You know what, Renly,” she said eventually, her tone a little bitter. “You're clearly going to do what you like whatever I say, so this conversation is pointless.”

Renly shrugged. He thought that a little unfair. “And yet I’m on the phone to you asking what you think," he pointed out.

“You already know what I think. _Loras_ knows what I’ll think. And yet you’ll both do as you see fit anyway.”

“Well yeah,” Renly admitted. “It’s kind of between us really.”

“It unfortunately is,” she agreed, a little scathing. “So you can stop pretending that you care about my opinion. You know I disagree. Whether you ignore that or not is up to you.” She sighed. "And we both know that you'll ignore it."

Renly echoed her sigh, exhaling deeply and taking a seat at his kitchen table. “You know, Margaery," he said quietly, "I have Loras’ best interests at heart too.” He hadn't always done right by Loras, Renly reckoned, and yet nobody could deny that he'd always had the best of intentions. As lovers and as friends, he'd always had Loras' well-being at heart.

To his surprise, she didn't argue. "I know you do,” she agreed, and for once it was without hesitation.

Renly frowned, not understanding. He didn't see why she was determined to be so difficult. “Then why won’t you trust me on this?”

“I accept that you mean well, Renly,” she said slowly, “but I wouldn’t _trust_ you with Loras as far as I could throw you.”

Renly didn’t know what to say to that.

 

* * *

 

 

It was thus without his sister's blessing that Loras began spending two days of every week in Renly's spare bedroom. Sansa disapproved greatly too, and yet Renly refused to let himself be dissuaded; he liked having Loras to stay, and it was clear in turn that Loras liked staying. This way he had something in his week to look forward to, he had some kind of routine. He'd come usually on the Monday and go back home on the Wednesday morning, and Renly reckoned that it was an arrangement that worked out well for the both of them. Seeing Loras now during the week, Renly was able to keep his weekends free for people that he could have distinctly more sex with whilst Loras was able to get back to Park Lane in time to see his counsellor on Wednesday afternoons.

Loras rarely talked about those Wednesday afternoons that he saw his counsellor, and so Renly was a little surprised when he brought her up one Monday evening over dinner.

“That lady I see thinks I should start dating again,” he told Renly as they ate, picking at his food a little unenthusiastically.

“She does?” Renly raised an eyebrow, not hiding his surprise. “I thought you were supposed to not be dating for like ages?” He'd long thrown out the leaflet that Garlan had given him and yet he remembered it well. No relationships for a least a year, he'd been told by Garlan as he'd been handed it. Loras had only managed seven of those sober twelve months so far. Renly wondered what had changed.

Loras shrugged and pushed his food around his plate a little. “Well she’s forbidden me from anything serious, but she thinks I should be socialising with other men.”

“I’m another man,” Renly said indignantly.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Other men that aren’t you,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Renly felt suddenly a little guilty, as if he perhaps ought to have taken more note of Margaery's reservations. “So she doesn’t approve of you spending so much time here then?"

“Not so much,” Loras admitted, “but it’s my life.” His tone sounded quite bitter and Renly wondered whether he’d finally told Margaery now about his weekly two day stay away from home. He imagined that he probably had: a one off visit was easy to hide but a weekly thing was considerably more of a challenge. Unaware that Margaery had known from the very beginning, Renly reckoned that Loras had probably felt forced to confess.

“It is your life indeed,” Renly agreed. He paused. “So do you actually want to start dating again?” It would surprise him if Loras did, he reckoned. Whilst Loras was clearly a lot more comfortable in his own skin than he had been a few months ago, he was still far from having any of the confidence that he'd used to have back. He still only went out in public when he absolutely had to and if Renly were to be quite honest, he couldn't imagine Loras going out on a date in the slightest. He'd be awkward, nervous, and possibly very disinterested.

Loras shrugged though. “Suppose so," he mumbled. "I mean, I don’t want to be single forever.”

Renly smiled. “That you don't," he agreed, wondering if this was proof that Loras was making headway with those rather unsuitable feelings of his. "In which case, you should get Tinder. It’s fun, and super easy too. You just link it up through Facebook, choose the pictures where you look hottest and then you’re done.”

Loras raised an eyebrow, putting down his knife and fork. “I don’t have Facebook,” he pointed out.

“Oh yeah,” Renly laughed, scratching his head. “I forgot that.” It was strange, Renly reckoned, to think how much Loras missed out on because he was famous. Unlike every other kid his age, Loras had probably never really done the whole Myspace and Facebook thing, not properly at least. He'd probably had just about enough of an anonymous childhood to manage MSN but all that would have been impossible once Loras was fourteen and scouted.

“I do have a page on there,” Loras clarified, “which people can like and where my management puts photos and news up and stuff. But it’s not a proper account.”

“Well would you want a proper account?" Renly asked. "You know, with a fake name or something?” The teachers at his school had done that, he remembered, to avoid the pupils finding them on any kind of social network.

Loras shrugged and got up to put his plate in the dishwasher. “What for? It’s not like I could use it properly anyway.”

“You could get Tinder with it though,” Renly grinned. “Which is great fun.” Indeed, he'd had more than great fun with it recently. With every week that passed more and more guys seemed to be creating accounts on it and most of them seemed up for a casual Saturday night of sex.

“Why’s it so fun?” Loras asked, sitting back down and looking rather unconvinced.

Renly resisted the urge to tell him that it was fun because you were often able to shag the people you met on it. Loras, he reckoned, wouldn't be a fan of sex that was quite that impersonal. "Here,” he laughed instead, slipping his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll show you. This is what Sansa and I do for entertainment during particularly boring days." Placing the phone on the table between them, he opened the app. "So basically," he explained, "you swipe right if you like somebody and left if you don't. If you both swipe right you get a match and then you can chat to each other."

"Seems simple enough," Loras admitted. He looked down at the first guy that had popped up, a twenty-four year old who had a rather bushy beard and a very unfortunate complexion. "Well he's a definite no."

Renly grinned and swiped left. The second had greasy hair and was no better. The third had only included a picture of his chest, and whilst it was indeed a very nice chest, Renly reckoned he needed a little more to go on than that. The fourth meanwhile was very good looking but only nineteen. Renly swiped left on reflex, thinking that he really ought to change his age filters.

“Why did you reject him?” Loras asked, frowning. "He was all right."

“Too young,” Renly laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Half your age plus seven is the rule of thumb for working out who's acceptable to date right? Which for me currently works out as twenty and a half.” He grinned, eyes moving up to Loras' face. “You could probably have had him though.”

Loras shrugged. “Suppose so. What’s half of twenty-three plus seven?”

“Er, eighteen and a half, I believe. So you’d be fine with the guy I just swiped left on.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “Rule or not rule, I still think that’s too young.”

Renly laughed. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Eighteen still seems really young. They could still be in sixth form.” Yawning, he did the maths the other way around, taking seven away from his own age before doubling it. “It always gives a rather large range though. Allegedly, I could go up to forty-year-olds with that rule."

Loras made a face as if he was sucking on a lemon. “That’s ancient."

“It does seem pretty old doesn’t it,” Renly chuckled, leaning back on his chair. “If you think about it, that rule gives a stupidly large age range. I don’t think I’ve actually ever gone over thirty even. I probably wouldn't go up to the top end of my 'acceptable' range in a million years."

Loras raised an eyebrow. “But what's your youngest eh? I bet you go right down to the bottom end of that acceptable range.”

Renly grinned, the accusation not particularly bothering him. "Actually," he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I doubt very much that I've ever been below it."

Loras didn't look convinced. "Well who's the youngest person you've ever slept with then?"

“Ah well that depends,” Renly laughed. “On what we’re talking here. I’ve been all the way down to sixteen. But that was somehow a lot more acceptable when I was seventeen. I like to think I'd probably avoid doing that nowadays.”

"Biggest age difference then,” Loras clarified.

Renly thought for a while, running through all the partners that he could remember the ages of in his head. “Satin probably,” he said eventually, hoping that that wouldn't put Loras in a bad mood. “Then you. But that’s just circumstantial really. It’s not like I’m morally opposed to going younger or anything. It's just that I never have.”

“So you’d be comfortable with dating like a twenty-year-old then?”

“Would I date one?” Renly laughed. “Probably not. Not nowadays at least. I feel like our life experience would be very different. They’d still be in university and I'm pushing thirty in a couple of years." He grinned, pushing his hair off his face. "But I’d probably sleep with a twenty-year-old if he was hot and up for it.” He turned properly to Loras. “What about you then? What’s your limit?” Somehow, he thought Loras' age range would likely be a lot smaller.

Loras shrugged. “I don’t really know," he admitted. "I didn’t feel like the age gap between us was weird at the time. But I don’t know if I’d want to be the younger guy again. It might be quite nice to be the older one.”

“And wiser huh?” Renly asked. “I can understand that actually. It’s way more fun doing the patronising than being patronised.”

“So you wouldn’t go older either?”

Renly shrugged. “Depends. I would if I liked him. I wouldn’t rule it out.”

Loras said nothing to that and so Renly glanced back down to his phone and began swiping again. He passed it to Loras after a while and let him take over. He was unsurprised to see that Loras was just as fussy as he was, if not perhaps more so. He passed about fifteen people without even seeming to consider swiping right.

“You’re really fussy,” Renly commented, grinning. He knew it was awful, but seeing evidence of just quite how picky Loras was stoked his ego more than a little bit. He still remembered mustering up the courage to go over to Loras and talk to him at London Fashion Week. Most people, he reckoned, would have got shot down.

Loras looked up. “And you’re not fussy?”

Renly grinned, rocking back on the legs of his chair lazily. “Well..." he mused, “considering that I’ve dated both a drug addict and an escort in the last couple of years, I'm possibly a lot less fussy than one might assume?”

Loras rolled his eyes but he seemed a little amused all the same. “Whatever," he said. Switching the screen off, he gave Renly back his phone.

“So what do you think?” Renly asked. "Is Tinder for you?"

Loras looked pensive. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “I mean you’re right, it’s great fun. I’m all for judging people solely based on their appearance. But it would be kind of weird right? I couldn’t exactly put my real name or my real picture.”

Renly sighed. He didn't envy Loras his lack of privacy in the slightest. With the insight that dating Loras had given him into what fame was like, he reckoned that a lot of celebrities probably found that they'd bitten off considerably more than they could chew when they were catapulted into the public eye. “Do you ever wish that you weren’t famous?" he asked quietly.

“Honestly Ren?” Loras asked, eyes meeting Renly's. “Most of the time actually nowadays.”

“And why's that?"

Loras sighed, looking down at the table as if it suddenly interested him. “Well the attention was always nice at first," he admitted. "I quite used to enjoy being on the cover of magazines and everything." He paused. "But it’s kinda lonely sometimes. I can’t have a normal life; I can't have normal relationships; I can’t have normal friends.”

Renly patted his arm. “You have me,” he insisted. “I’m your friend.”

Loras only smiled for a brief moment before it twisted into a smirk. “I said _normal_ ,” he pointed out.

It was Renly’s turn to roll his eyes.


	51. Chapter 51

Renly couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at the address book that he now had resting on his pillow in front of him. It was certainly a good five or six years ago now, before the entirety of his life had been on the internet. Most of the addresses inside its tattered pages were out of date nowadays, and Renly flicked through it with a little nostalgia, smiling at how he’d scratched Robert’s address out time and time again, replacing it several times over in a new slot that corresponded to the bigger and fancier house that Cersei had wanted that year.

It took him a while to find the name he was after. Beric was one of the boys he’d been at school with, with whom Renly had always fancied sleeping with a bit himself. They’d been friendly back then- Renly had been popular and Beric had formed part of the group that had followed him around faithfully. He'd been attractive, remarkably so if Renly remembered correctly, and when Loras had asked him earlier that week if there was anyone he might be able to set him up with, Beric had been the first that had sprung to mind. Loras had been quite adamant after all that it couldn't be anyone he'd ever dated- or more pertinently- that he'd ever _slept with_ either, and that request had seen the list of suitable gay men that Renly knew dwindle down to almost nothing.

Beric, however, had spend most of his youth dating a much older guy who'd been just a little bit of an alcoholic, and so Renly and he had remained on a strictly friendly basis. He had been nice though, a real gentleman, and Renly reckoned that he might do well for Loras now. Tracing the number that he had written down next to Beric's name with a finger, he punched it into his phone, letting it ring. Unsurprisingly, he soon got a tone telling him that the number he required no longer existed.

Facebook yielded more results, even telling Renly that Beric was currently single, and Renly wondered why he hadn’t looked simply there in the first place. Smiling at his success, he wandered back into the living room where Loras was sat watching TV.

“So,” Renly laughed, leaning against the doorway lazily. “Do you want me to send this guy a message or not?”

Loras turned towards him, shifting on the sofa. “What’s he like again?”

“Nice,” Renly said, “Redhead, well strawberry blond really. Very chivalrous, popular with both the ladies and the men.” He grinned. "If my memory serves me correctly, he was almost as attractive as you actually. Tall, handsome. But down to earth too. Used to date someone way below his league, this guy who was a bit chubby and already balding."

Loras nodded a little stiffly. It was him who’d asked Renly if he knew anyone suitable for him and yet he looked less sure of the idea now. He looked a lot less than sure if truth be told. “Well how old is he?” he asked, and Renly got the distinct feeling that Loras was looking for a reason to dismiss the idea.

“He was in my year, so he’s definitely out if you don’t want someone older than you.”

Loras ran a hand through his hair; he looked tired, beyond tired actually, as if he were fighting a battle with himself. “But he’s nice?” he asked a little lamely.

“Yeah,” Renly laughed, coming to sit beside him on the sofa. “Super nice. Or at least he was.” He patted his shoulder gently. "I'm not a cruel person, Loras. I'm not going to set you up with someone who I don't think is top-notch." He paused, remembering the rather painful incident of Loras' with that New York DJ. "Or somebody who will take advantage of you in any way," he added softly. 

Loras still didn’t look too convinced but he didn't shy away from Renly's hand on his shoulder either. “And you’re sure he’s not one of your exs?” he clarified.

“Yep I’m sure,” Renly smiled. “But it’s your choice. You're not obligated to go on a date with him if you don't want to. It's not set in stone or anything." Indeed, Renly hadn't even asked Beric yet. For all he knew, Beric might say no. He didn't mention this though and nudged Loras' shoulder. "So what's it going to be? Do I ask him or not?"

Loras deliberated for a good few moments. ”All right then,” he said eventually, meeting Renly's eyes with his big brown ones. “But can you only give him my first name. I don’t want him to spend the evening gawking at me.”

Renly shrugged. “Sure," he said, "if you like.” He didn’t know how successful such an attempt would be, seeing as Loras was quite recognisable and he'd been in the news almost constantly for the last decade, but he didn't bother arguing. Loras, he knew, was as stubborn as a mule. If he wanted to attempt an anonymous date, that was his business. Renly wasn't about to try and stop him.

“And you tell him up front that I’m a recovering drug addict right?”

Renly paused, lowering his gaze to meet Loras' eyes again. “Really?” he asked.

“Really,” Loras repeated.

Renly sighed. He wondered how he could word his objection to that without sounding a little hypocritical. It was true that he'd been furious that Loras had hidden his involvement in drugs from him during their relationship, but he still thought that it was more of a third date topic, certainly not a pre-first date one. “But he might be a little put off if I tell him now," he said gently.

“You don’t say?” Loras laughed bitterly. “Tell him, and if he’s not interested, then most likely he won’t ever be, whether it’s the first date I tell him, or the fifteenth.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn't agree. “That’s not true,” he protested. “I dare say that once anyone’s got to know you, it won’t seem like such a big deal.”

“Really?” Loras gave him a pointed look. “Is that so?”

Renly cringed. He knew what Loras was getting at. “Well it’s different with us,” he said.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Out of curiosity really, why?”

Renly ran a hand through his hair a little awkwardly. He was suddenly aware of how close Loras and he were sitting. “It just is,” he protested.

Loras seemed a little amused and very undeterred. "But _why?_ ” he repeated, more strongly this time.

Renly closed his eyes briefly and leant away from Loras. He tried to think why. He was sure that he'd once had quite a few reasons and yet now none were springing to mind. Aside from the fact that Margaery would kill him if he even contemplated touching Loras in that way, he couldn't think of any reason why it was particularly different with him than any other guy that Loras might date. “Well we have history,” he said lamely, wishing he’d been able to think of something better.

The amusement had gone from Loras' face now; he looked pensive rather. “Well we have good history too,” he pointed out quietly.

“Yeah we do,” Renly admitted. "But any history makes everything complicated, Loras. Regardless of whether it's good or bad." He sighed heavily and leant back against the sofa cushions. “Well, let us get back to the point. Shall I message my old school friend or not?”

“Yeah sure,” Loras told him.

 

* * *

 

 

Gentleman that he was, Beric agreed to the date despite Renly telling him that Loras was a recovering drug addict. It was arranged for the following Tuesday in a very quiet restaurant where Loras was probably hopeful he wouldn't be recognised.

Renly doubted that this would be the case, and he would have given anything to be able to be a fly on the wall when Beric eventually put two and two together and realised that the man he'd been set up on a date with was rather famous. Loras, however, was adamant that he'd get away with it, annoyingly so. It was with more than a bit of curiosity thus that Renly dropped round his Park Lane flat early on Tuesday evening to evaluate for himself if Loras would have any chance at going out incognito.

He was pleasantly surprised when Loras opened the door to him. He'd evidently blow-dried his hair out of the shower and he'd done a admirable job of it, taking most of the curl out but leaving a little of a wave so that it wasn't unnaturally poker-straight. As usual he looked quite different without his curls and Renly had to grudgingly admit that he might actually have a chance at not immediately being recognised.

He still looked like a fashion model though, and Renly smiled as he looked Loras up and down. He’d gone simple, with a navy shirt and a very well-tailored jacket, but he had a knack of looking irresistibly good even in the most unexciting of clothes. It was weird to think that those clothes were for somebody else’s benefit tonight though. Usually it was him that Loras dressed nicely for, and looking at him now, Renly felt suddenly a little left out. Despite the fact that he'd organised Loras' date tonight himself, it felt inexplicably strange seeing Loras getting ready to go out with someone that wasn't him. He hadn't expected that.

“You look really nice,” Renly told him a little reluctantly as Loras slipped his arms into his jacket.

Loras just snorted as if it were obvious and continued getting himself ready, yanking a brush through his hair in a way that he couldn't normally do and shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

Renly had to smile at that, pleased to see that a little of Loras' vanity had returned. It was odd, he reckoned, vanity wasn't a particularly desirable trait in someone and yet seeing it now in Loras greatly reassured him. It made him a little nostalgic and he sighed as he remembered all the evenings where he and Loras had got ready together, to go out to dinner perhaps or to make a quick appearance at some event Loras was supposed to be at. It had been fun having someone as image-conscious as himself to get ready with.

“Well good luck,” Renly told him once it was clear Loras was ready to go. “I hope you have a really nice time.” The words felt a little wooden in his mouth and Renly wished that he'd organised a date for himself tonight. He never did like seeing people go out without him.

Loras gave him a small smile, tugging on Renly's sleeve to force him off the sofa. “My cab should be here now. Do you want a lift back to yours?”

Renly shook his head without quite knowing why. “It’s all right,” he told him. “I quite fancy walking actually.”

 

* * *

 

 

The November air was crisp and a little frosty as Renly made his way out onto the street and into the park that marked his route home. He felt a little strange and it unnerved him. He knew he ought to be happy to see Loras venturing out on a date, and yet seeing him get ready tonight had only made him painfully nostalgic. It made him feel a little lonely too, and that, Renly thought, made no sense at all seeing as he could have found himself a date easily enough.

It was only early in the evening and yet Hyde Park was deserted, the usually crowded footpaths empty. Renly took advantage of that to sink down onto one of the benches, stretching his legs out wearily and wondering what had got into him tonight. It was him after all who had organised Loras' date. There was no reason for him to feel like this.

He sat there on that bench for a good quarter of an hour, the cool air biting at his skin through his thin jacket, and whilst he'd only intended on soaking in the peace and quiet, he'd soon slipped his phone out of his pocket. His fingers found the number he wanted out of habit and he listened to it ring a little distantly.

Satin answered on the fifth ring. “Hey,” he laughed, his crackly voice echoing around the silence that surrounded Renly. “What’s up?”

Renly paused before he answered, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I miss you,” he said quietly.

Satin was silent for a few moments. “You do?” he asked.

Despite himself, Renly had to smile wryly, a small laugh escaping. “Why do you sound so sceptical?” he asked. "I should be a little offended."

Satin laughed too then, the sound a little comforting. “Well,” he said softly, his tone contemplative. “I did hear on the grapevine that you were shacking up with Loras now.”

Renly bit back a groan, wondering how none of his life ever seemed to remain private. He'd have thought that Satin would have been beyond the reach of the gossip chain, all the way up in Edinburgh as he was. “Where did you hear that?” he asked.

“Jon told me that Arya mentioned it."

Renly sighed. He supposed he ought not to be surprised; he'd known after all that Arya had introduced Satin to her brother. “Well the gossip has got it a little wrong," he insisted. "I am not ‘shacking up’ with Loras, or at least not in the way you implied it. He just comes to stay quite often.” He didn't go into the details of why. He didn't think Loras would appreciate Satin knowing how poor a job he was doing of living on his own.

“Fair enough,” Satin said, his voice quiet. “So tell me, where’s dear Loras tonight?”

“He’s on a date,” Renly admitted.

Satin was silent for a few moments and then he began to laugh, a soft, gentle sort of sound. “ _Renly_ ,” he said, the word full of fondness somehow. “It’s not me that you miss.”

Renly closed his eyes, his cheeks flushing pink despite the fact he had no audience in the deserted park. He didn’t know what to say to that. “What are you implying?” he asked with a sigh, regardless of the fact that he thought he knew exactly what Satin was implying.

Satin didn’t shy away from the direct question like Renly might have hoped he would. “You’re jealous,” he said simply. “Loras is out with someone else and you don’t like that.”

Renly groaned; those words made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. “That’s not true,” he said, his tone a little pathetic even to his own ears.

Satin just laughed at that and Renly could hear the smile on his voice. “Sure it’s not,” he chuckled. “You just keep telling yourself that, Renly.”

“But I don’t want to date him,” Renly protested. It wasn't even a lie.

“But you don’t want anyone else to date him either?” Satin offered gently.

Renly sighed heavily. As much as it pained him to admit it, there was a sad hint of truth in Satin's words that stung. It had upset him to see Loras going out tonight with somebody else, regardless of the fact that it made no logical sense, regardless of the fact that the very idea of the two of them getting back together still set off warning bells in his head.

“I really don’t know what I want, Satin," he admitted wearily.


	52. Chapter 52

Renly went to bed almost as soon as he got home, unwilling to sit and think about what he and Satin had talked about, and equally unwilling too to sit and think about what Loras may or may not have been up to on his date.

Despite his attempts though, he couldn’t help but think about it. He could picture Loras and his old school friend sat at the table across from one another, Loras smiling perhaps. It was an awful thing to admit, but the thought of Beric making Loras smile made his stomach clench uncomfortably. He’d grown rather used to being the only one who could consistently make Loras smile, and rather proud of that fact too. It was something even Loras’ sister couldn’t manage all of the time.

A small part of him, or a large part of him if he was being honest, knew perhaps that it was jealousy that he was feeling, that Satin was right. All of him, however, didn't want to admit that. Jealous or not, it would not change the fact that getting involved with Loras again would definitely be risky business for both of them. It would probably be a catastrophe of great proportions even. 

He fell asleep to very strange imaginings of Beric feeding Loras little bits of food off a spoon, and he was awoken suddenly a couple of hours later by his phone vibrating loudly against his bedside table.

Rubbing his eyes, he picked it up. It was only quarter to twelve and the text was from Loras, asking if he was still awake. Renly tried to ignore the way that that stroked his ego and yet he couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face, proving Satin right with a small involuntary twitch of his mouth. 

 _Am I awake? Well I am now_ , Renly texted back, rolling over onto his stomach to stretch out in bed. _You want to drop round and tell me how your evening went?_ All things considered, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to suggest and yet Renly's curiosity was stronger than his sense of caution. 

 _If that’s ok?_ Loras texted back. The reply was almost immediate so Renly reckoned that meant he and Beric had parted ways for the evening and that Loras was probably already in a cab back.

 _Sure_ , Renly messaged back. _There’s a key under the flowerpot._ Really, it would have been polite to go down and let him in himself, but he was too lazy and warm for that. It was far more tempting to drift back to sleep for a few minutes without having to lie in wait for the sound of the door.

Indeed, Renly jolted back awake ten minutes later when there was the sound of first the key in the lock and then footsteps on the stairs. A loud knock on his bedroom door followed and Renly sat up, glad that he’d worn pyjamas to bed. It was only because he'd been sat in a cold park for so long that he'd bothered tonight. 

“Come in,” he yawned, flicking on the bedside light just in time to see Loras emerge through the doorway. “How was it? Was he nice?” Selfishly, he was a little pleased to see that Loras’ hair was still quite neat and tidy. It certainly didn’t look like Beric had had his hands in it all evening.

“Yeah,” Loras said eventually, a little unsure. He came to perch on the end of Renly’s bed quite comfortably though. “He was really nice.”

Renly leant back against the headboard. “Did you get away with him not recognising you?”

“No,” Loras sighed. “Turns out your old school friends kept track of you in the tabloids when we were dating. Apparently they thought it was hilarious that you were dating a fashion model. Unsurprising apparently, but very amusing.”

Renly grinned, running a hand through his hair and trying to flatten it a bit. He very much enjoyed the thought of his old school friends seeing him in the papers. “Well I always was cut out for stardom,” he chuckled. He threw a wink at Loras. “Maybe if I’d put my hand to it, I could have been the runway model too.”

Loras rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “Whatever you say, Renly. As it happens though, you’re actually too tall to be a runway model.”

“Too tall?” Renly laughed. “You can’t be _too_ tall can you?”

“Er yes you can,” Loras told him, very matter-of-factly. “And you are. You might have got away with editorial, but you’d never fit into any of the sample sizes of a runway. The trousers would be several inches too short. Even letting the hem down wouldn’t be enough for you.”

Renly grinned. “Ah,” he said, “I guess that’s the curse of being six foot five.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “And you’re not six foot five either. You’re six foot four and a half if we’re being generous.”

“Six foot four and three-quarters,” Renly argued.

Loras just looked at him, eyebrow raised, and Renly shut up. He would have to concede that he was six foot four and a half, an admirable height indeed, even if was still a couple of inches shorter than Robert and Brienne.

“Well back to Beric then,” he laughed, pulling the covers up around his shoulders to keep warm. “Was it awkward once you’d established that he knew exactly who you were?”

Loras made a face. “It wasn’t too bad,” he mumbled. “He was quite like you in that respect actually.”

Renly frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well when we started dating you treated me like a human being rather than just some famous person. You didn’t blabber on about how crazy it was to meet me, or how you’d been waiting for the chance to take a selfie with me all your life, or how you’d named your first cat after me.”

Renly grinned. “Surely nobody has ever named their cat after you?”

Loras grimaced. “You’d be surprised.” He yawned. “Anyway, all in all, you were pretty good. Most of the time at least. You still had your moments at the beginning.”

Renly smiled, trying to think back all that time. It was two years now that he’d known Loras and yet it felt much longer. He could barely remember what it was like meeting him. It seemed like a lifetime ago and if he’d told himself at the time that in a couple of years he’d be that supermodel’s first choice of people to come to after going on a rather uncomfortable date, he wouldn’t have believed it.

“It’s weird thinking back to when I met you,” he admitted. “It’s like I’ve got two separate versions of you in my head. The fashion model who I was a little star-struck by and then you. When I recall going up to you at Fashion Week, it’s hard to think of that person as actually being you. ” He wondered whether that actually made any sense.

Loras smiled though so maybe it did. “Well I guess people seem different when you know them.”

“Yeah,” Renly laughed. “Back then you were all intimidating and scary. You were the person whose clothes I sometimes used to try and emulate.”

Loras' smile widened and he got himself a little more comfortable on the end of Renly's bed. “And now?”

“And now I realise that you’re a massive softie," Renly grinned. “Like a teddy bear that wants to be a grizzly bear and has failed miserably.” His grin widened. “You still have pretty nice clothes though.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I’d sock you one if you were closer.”

Renly;s grin didn't leave his face. It was unclear whether Loras was more pissed off by the teddy bear comment or by the fact that Renly had described his clothes as merely ‘pretty nice’. Either way, he thought he should escape unscathed while he still could. “I shall move swiftly on then,” he chuckled. “It wasn’t weird at all then, with Beric?”

Loras considered that for a few moments. “Well he did think it was weird that you were setting me up with someone, being my ex and everything.”

Renly frowned. It hadn’t seemed weird to him at first but now, with hindsight it seemed very odd. He wondered why he had done that; it was if he were setting himself up to feel a little jealous. “Well yeah,” he admitted. “It is a bit weird. But the main thing is that you enjoyed yourself, which you did I hope?” He didn’t particularly, but he was trying to be the bigger person.

Loras shrugged though. “It was okay.”

 _Okay_ wasn’t too bad, Renly reckoned. Considering that back in May Loras had been reluctant to step out in public, an okay date with a stranger was definitely a step up. “Only okay?” he asked though.

Loras sighed, running a hand over his jaw, freshly shaved as it had been for his date. “It made me feel really strange actually,” he admitted. “I can’t remember the last time I spoke to someone I don’t know well.”

“Well that’s good for you,” Renly told him gently. Loras couldn’t be wary of socialising forever.

Loras shrugged though. “I suppose so.” He didn’t sound convinced and he sighed heavily.

“ _But…?_ ” Renly supplied helpfully.

“But I’m just not interested.”

Renly felt a little muddled at that. The selfish part of him felt a little pleased but the rational part of him knew that it was best for both of them that Loras started being interested in other people. “You’re not?” he asked. “Was he not attractive?” He wondered if he’d underestimated Loras’ fussiness.

“Yeah he was.” Loras sounded unsure.

“But…?” Renly waved him on again.

“Well he wasn’t what I want, I guess.”

There was no question about what it was that Loras _did_ want and Renly sighed, his heart melting. “Come here,” he soothed. “I’ll give you a hug.”

Loras duly shifted to the top of the bed and Renly wrapped an arm around him, holding him tight. He knew he was just being possessive, that he enjoyed having an arm round Loras’ middle partly because he’d feared Beric getting to do it instead, but he tried not to think about that. The hug seemed to cheer Loras up no end and that was more important, Renly thought, regardless of the fact that Satin’s words from earlier still haunted him a little, the truth in them now evident perhaps despite what Renly would have liked.

For the time being though, Renly reckoned that both of them were content enough. He resolved to put off thinking about what that might mean until morning.

 

* * *

 

 

For once, Renly woke a little before his alarm.

Eyes opening blearily, the first thing he noticed was that the bedside lamp was still on, which was presumably the reason why he’d woken up on time for once, combined with the fact that he’d got into bed about nine-thirty last night.

The second thing that he noticed was that Loras was still next to him, and the third thing- closely linked to the second- was that Loras was asleep, a miracle in itself. He was only half under the covers, still dressed in the clothes he’d been in last night, but he was most definitely asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Sitting up, Renly looked down at his bed partner for the evening. He reckoned it was the first time he’d ever slept beside a fully clothed guy and woken up in the morning with that guy still fully clothed. Indeed, Loras couldn’t have been very comfortable during the night. Whilst he must have kicked off his shoes at some point, for those were on the floor at the foot of the bed, he was still in his jeans, rather restricting jeans at that, and he was being half choked by the buttons on his shirt. He couldn’t have been very warm either, for he only had his jacket half draped over him for warmth and only one arm under the duvet. Renly felt a little guilty at that and he pulled the covers over him now, tucking them around his neck and ignoring the wave of nostalgia that threatened to engulf him. 

He looked all too sweet once Renly had done that, and sighing, Renly forced himself to think a little more clearly about what Satin had said to him last night. If he was being honest with himself, he supposed that there was little doubt over whether he’d been jealous or not last night. He’d clearly been exactly that, despite however much he wished it were not the case.

He supposed that all there was left to do now was to assess how big the damage was. Biting back a sigh, he imagined leaning down to kiss Loras, something which would be incredibly easy right now considering how close Loras was lying. He had no intention of going through with it but he wanted to see if the idea of it felt strange, if it felt odd.

It didn’t feel strange, or odd, and that worried Renly more than anything. He got out his phone to text Sansa. Intervention, he reckoned, would definitely be necessary.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa was ready and waiting when he got into the office an hour or so later, Loras having been left sleeping across his bed.

“You need to tell me everything,” she told him as soon as he’d sat himself down, blue eyes fixing him rather anxiously.

Renly sighed. “Well Loras went on his date yesterday, remember.”

Sansa nodded. “And you got jealous?” She rolled her eyes. “Well nobody saw that one coming.”

Renly groaned, leaning his head on the table. Apparently this was obvious to everyone beside him. “But it’s entirely irrational jealousy,” he protested. “It’s just me being a selfish dick, wanting to have my cake and eat it too. I don’t want to get back with him, or at least I don’t _want_ to want that. It just irritates me to see him with somebody else.”

“These things don’t work rationally,” Sansa soothed. “It’s only natural when the two of you were spending so much time together.” There was only a hint of ‘I told you so’ on her face.

Renly sighed. “You’re right,” he said, “It’s not rational at all. It’s stupid and crazy and I need to nip it in the bud.” He was about to ask how Sansa dealt with any irrational crushes she had, and then he realised that Sansa tended to usually date hers. Well she’d certainly dated Joffrey and Sandor at least, and those had been the most irrational of the lot.

Sansa though seemed undeterred. “Yes,” she said contemplatively. “We shall nip it in the bud.”

Renly nodded, reassured by her apparent confidence. “I mean, it’s weird Sansa. I still know that getting back with him in any way is a horrific idea, but I’m starting to lose sight of why.”

Sansa sighed. “Well that’s not good.”

“I know it’s not,” Renly said, exasperated. She was certainly pointing out the obvious there. 

She flicked her hair off her face. “Then make a list.”

“What?”

“A list,” Sansa said, voice calm. “Of all the things why you and Loras getting back together would not work, and then you’ll have got it out of your system. You’ll have rationalised why it’s a bad idea.”

Renly paused. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?” she asked. “We’ll bin it afterwards, or burn it, shred it, whatever you like. I just feel like it’ll do you good.”

That made Renly feel better but he still sighed. “I wouldn’t know what to put on it.” He’d spent all of last week after all telling Loras why someone like Beric might be interested in him even despite the fact he was in recovery from drug addiction.

“Well think about it,” Sansa insisted. “There’s lots of reasons why he’s an unsuitable boyfriend for you.” She took a piece of scrap paper from Renly’s desk, turned it over and started writing on the back.

She was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, followed by it swinging open.

“You two,” Jaime laughed, “look guilty. What you up to in here?” He sidled over and dumped the pile of papers he was carrying before snatching the piece of paper Sansa had just written on out of her hands. “Reasons why I should not get back with Loras Tyrell,” he read out slowly, a grin immediately coming to his face. “Why is this blank? I could add a thousand things.”

Renly wished the ground would swallow him up.

Jaime grabbed a pen. “Well,” he said, “let’s put ex-druggie right at the top, with crack cocaine in bold. That’s the big one right?”

Renly couldn’t deny it. “Sure,” he said reluctantly. It certainly wasn't what anyone looked for in a partner. 

“And he doesn’t seem to bloody eat either,” Jaime laughed. “He looks like a bag of bones in every picture recently.” He scrawled that too across the piece of paper in a messy hand.

“That’s true,” Sansa sighed. “And you always said that he was uncomfortable to have in bed beside you. That he was all sharp elbows and jagged knees.”

That was true but Renly didn’t think it really adequate of a reason to put down. He was about to protest when Jaime cut him off.

“He’s spoilt and vain too," Jaime offered with a smirk. “Not though you can talk either of you two.” He paused contemplatively. “Or me really actually.”

“Oh and what about how aggressive and violent he can get?” Sansa added. "That was awful when he threw those plates at you."

“-or how paranoid and jealous he was?”

“-and how boring and rubbish in bed he was? Or the fact that he really can’t spell for his life?”

“I thought you said he had no GCSEs at all come to think about it. Or did I read that in a magazine…”

Renly groaned and laid his head on his desk again, Sansa and Jaime's words swirling around him loudly. Strangely, despite their topic of conversation, he wanted nothing more to run back home and join Loras again.


	53. Chapter 53

Renly had intended on burning the list that Jaime and Sansa had ever so kindly made for him and yet he had to settle for chucking it in the wastepaper bin to be shredded when they realised that none of them smoked and that they were distinctly lacking in lighters or matches. He felt better though once it was safely in the bin, and once that was seen to, he even found that the rest of the morning passed quite nicely. Jaime had done him him a favour and fucked off back to his own office, whilst Renly and Sansa meanwhile decided that the day was a write-off and that no serious work would be getting done. That agreed on, they waited until Stannis had finished patrolling the corridors before taking a long lunch break in the café next door so that they’d be able to sit and gossip as they usually did in peace.

Today, it was apparently Sansa’s turn to bring rather interesting news to the table. “So Arya let me in on some news about our brother Jon yesterday,” she announced as soon as they’d found a seat in the rather busy café. “I’ve been wanting to tell you all morning but we had more pressing issues.”

“And what is this fun piece of news?” Renly asked with a laugh, impatient.

“Well apparently he and his girlfriend broke up yesterday,” she said. “No surprise there really. She sounded quite wrong for him, rougher than rough apparently, and it’s always a bad sign when Arya gets on well with someone. And they did get on apparently. Arya even said she was 'cool', which is really unlike her.”

Renly was just beginning to wonder why she thought that this would evidently be of any interest to him when she told him.

“And apparently,” she said, punctuating every word sharply as she leant across the table to better tell him, “it wasn’t another lady who comforted him in his heartbreak.”

Renly couldn’t help but crack up at that. “Please tell me it wasn’t Satin?” he laughed. He knew it had to be though, or otherwise Sansa would have little reason to tell him.

“It _was_ Satin,” Sansa said with a coy smile.

Renly just sat back in his chair and laughed. “God,” he exhaled, “trust Satin to confuse a guy. Your brother’s straight right?”

“Well we always _thought_ he was straight,” Sansa said. “But I’m guessing not now!”

Renly shrugged, rolling his eyes and picking up the menu to peruse it lazily. “Nah,” he said, “Doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might just be curious, or have an itch he wants scratching. I’ve had loads of encounters with straight men over the years.” Somehow, there was a strange appeal to be had in chasing after straight guys; he supposed it was all part of the universal habit of wanting what you couldn't have. 

Sansa nodded. “Well who knows,” she said. “It wasn’t Jon who told Arya. Apparently one of his friends told her.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Then it’s not necessarily true,” he chuckled. He got out his phone. “Only one way to find out I guess. Hopefully Satin will be in an obliging mood.”

“You can’t just _text_ him,” Sansa hissed, flicking her hair back behind her shoulder as she reached across the table to try and grab Renly's phone. “What are you going to say? 'Did you and Sansa’s brother fuck last night' or something? You can’t just send things like that to ex-boyfriends.”

“Sure you can,” Renly laughed, finding Satin's number in his phone. “And I’m going to.” He glanced up at her. “Though I doubt very much that they’ll have actually fucked even if it is true. That would definitely be throwing oneself in at the deep end.” He punched out a rather blunt message to Satin as he spoke, putting it a little more crudely than even he'd intended to, just to wind up Sansa really. 

“So what have you said then?” Sansa asked, sitting back in her chair with more than a little exasperation. 

“I asked him if it was true that your brother fucked him last night.”

Sansa winced. “Talk about vulgar.” She took a sip of the mineral water the waitress put down in front of her. “And why are you assuming it’ll be that way round? How do you know Jon didn’t, um, well, _receive_?” She seemed a little squeemish about talking about her brother in such a way. 

Renly laughed. “I don’t. I’m just making assumptions.” Privately though, he’d have bet quite a lot of money on it being Satin bottoming for Jon if they had indeed had sex.

It didn’t take long for Satin to reply and Renly had to laugh when he opened the message; it was certainly doing a good job of distracting him from Loras-related problems. 

“What did he say?” Sansa yelped, getting out of her chair to lean across the table again. “What did he say?”

“He said ‘no comment’,” Renly grinned. “Which clearly means yes.” He tapped out another message.

“And what are you saying now?” Sansa demanded.

“I’m asking for more details,” Renly said, thinking that rather obvious. 

Satin took a little longer to reply this time. _Just oral_ , he told him, _and before you ask, yes he enjoyed it, no he doesn’t think he’s gay, and no we’re not dating. Now no more questions :P_

Renly had to laugh. _You know me too well_ , he texted back before slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’d never met Sansa’s brother and yet that news would keep him smiling all day, he reckoned. A tiny part of him wanted to point out the irony of that fact- that he found it rather amusing to hear of Satin's exploits with other men whilst he'd found it almost unbearable to see Loras go on a date, but he ignored it. 

 

* * *

 

He was still smiling when he got back home that evening, and he had to laugh when he opened the kitchen door to find Loras sat at the table reading a newspaper. He’d assumed that Loras would have gone back home upon waking up that morning and yet he'd apparently been wrong. 

“Talk about gate-crashing my house,” he grinned as he gave Loras a soft smack about the back of his head with his hand. “It’s like I’ve got a squatter.”

Loras rolled his eyes and tipped back on his chair to look at him. “I’m bored," he admitted. 

“But it’s a Wednesday,” Renly pointed out, amused all the same. “I thought you saw that lady on a Wednesday?”

“I do,” Loras said bluntly. “And I have.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “So you left and came back? You don’t _live_ here you know.”

Loras shrugged, unperturbed. “You told me where you kept your spare key. Your fault.”

Renly laughed and went to stand next to him. He should have known that his laziness to get out of bed would eventually get the better of him. “Key back please then.” He held his hand out expectantly, palm up.

Loras slipped the key out of his pocket without a fuss. “God this is familiar,” he remarked dryly. He sounded amused though.

Renly rolled his eyes. “You had it coming," he insisted. "People who cook crack in my frying pans don't deserve keys." Even so, he reckoned now that taking Loras' keys away had probably been a little harsh, especially considering that he now knew it had done no good at all. He wasn’t about to backtrack though.

“I probably did have it coming,” Loras admitted.

Renly smiled. It was rare to hear Loras admit to any wrong-doing and it was oddly refreshing. “You staying tonight then?” he asked. 

Loras shrugged, looking up at him with a rather hopeful expression. “Am I allowed to?”

“If you want to,” Renly laughed. Crossing the room, he chucked Loras an onion. “Start chopping then. You’ll have to earn your keep.”

Loras narrowed his eyes at him but reached for the chopping board nevertheless. Renly knew he wouldn’t dare to complain; he enjoyed being at Renly’s place too much.

“So what did your counsellor think of your date?” Renly asked, sitting down to chop vegetables beside him.

Loras shrugged. “She was pleased that I went. I reckon she thought that I’d bail at the last minute.”

Renly smiled, amused. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, “I thought you were possibly going to bail too.”

Loras glared at him. “I’d choose a moment where I don’t have a knife in my hand to insult me.”

Renly grinned and to piss him off a little more, leant away as if he were frightened. Sansa had written 'aggressive' on that list earlier, but somehow he thought it unlikely that Loras was about to stab him, regardless of the rather large serrated knife in his hand.

“Whatever,” Renly laughed, “You don’t particularly scare me. But she’s right, you know. It’s good that you went, that you’re getting back out there.” Those words made his chest tighten as it had done yesterday, and yet he found that Sansa was right. He felt a lot calmer for having gone through the reasons why he and Loras wouldn’t work, a lot less prone to doing something stupid or rash.

Loras nodded slowly; it wasn’t clear he agreed. “Sure,” he said, “but I don’t think I’ll go on a second date with him though.”

“No?” Renly wasn’t surprised and the rational part of him thought that a shame. Beric was nice; he’d have done well for Loras. He'd definitely do better for him than he reckoned Satin would do for Satin's brother. 

“Nah,” Loras said though, with a small accompanying shake of the head. He didn’t elaborate.

Renly was just about to ask why he was so adamant against a second date when Loras opened his mouth to speak again. “Fancy coming late night shopping with me tomorrow?” he asked suddenly, changing the topic as if he knew that Renly was going to ask more questions. “It’s been too long since I’ve spent any decent amount of money.”

Renly laughed. “Sure I’ll come shopping with you,” he said. He paused, contemplative. “Just out of interest, Loras, how rich even are you?” It was something he’d always wondered but had feared asking when they were dating; he’d been too conscious of being perceived as a gold digger.

Loras seemed to think about that for a good long while “I don’t really know,” he admitted eventually, head propped up in his hands. “I think I’m worth about forty million, in dollars though, not in pounds, and not including what my inheritance will be.”

It was a huge amount but Renly would have thought it would be more even so. “I don’t want to use the word ‘only’ at all, but don’t you get like five million per campaign?” he asked. "Which would add up to considerably more?"

Loras rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but I lose almost half of it to tax. And I’m only twenty-three. I’ve only been working properly for five years. Four and a half really even, considering that I’ve done nothing since February now.”

“True,” Renly conceded.

“And I spend a lot,” Loras added.

Renly grinned; it was one of their shared vices. The two of them went through money as if it were water. Quite honestly, it was lucky that both of them had deep pockets to go with their spending habits. “I noticed that habit of yours,” he told Loras. “Where was it that you racked up a one-hundred and fifty grand tab? I'm sure I remember reading that somewhere.”

“Probably my twenty-second birthday,” Loras admitted. "That did get a bit out of control." 

“A bit out of control?” Renly laughed. "A tab in excess of a hundred grand is _insane_." He wondered if even Robert spent that on alcohol in a whole year.

Loras shrugged. “Yeah it is a lot of money, but I was paid more than that just to appear there.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Loras said, “in appearance fees. Usually I charge a lot less, about fifty grand, in dollars, but I got about two hundred to appear at that particular club for my birthday, because of the sort of people I was bringing. What they do is they leak it that I’ve chosen to go there, and then they rake the money back in from free publicity.”

“Bloody hell,” Renly laughed, a little envious. He hadn’t quite realised that it worked like that. “Easy money isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Loras said. “It was incredibly easy money.” He prodded Renly’s shoulder. “So you’ll come shopping with me tomorrow then and help me spend some of that easy money?” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll even buy you something if you’re nice to me.”

Renly grinned. That was an offer far too good to pass up. “Sure,” he smiled. “I’ll meet you after work then.” He would look forward to it even though he knew he ought not to.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly and Loras had arranged to meet outside Bond Street Station at seven. Renly wasn’t particularly surprised thus, when arriving at quarter to, Loras was nowhere to be seen. He was quite happy milling about the shops by himself for ten or fifteen minutes.

He became a little more worried when those ten or fifteen minutes turned into thirty, and he was a little pissed off even when the clock struck half past and Loras was still a no show. Sighing, Renly got out his phone to check for the twentieth time whether he had any missed calls or unseen texts. As had been the case for the last nineteen times he had nothing. It was distinctly odd, Renly reckoned. It was very unlike Loras to be late in the first place, and even more unlike Loras to not let him know that he was going to be late.

Leaning against the wall of the tube station, Renly rang him, listening to the hustle and bustle of the shoppers around him as he willed Loras to pick up.

He got no answer.

Renly was unsure what to do after that, and it was only after much deliberation and the time hitting eight o-clock that he decided to give up on waiting. Wrapping his coat more tightly around him, he headed down Gilbert Street with the intention of seeking Loras out at home. Cutting through the back streets behind Oxford Circus, Renly reckoned that it was probably only a ten minute walk to Loras’ flat.

He had estimated the distance rather well, Renly found, when he turned onto Park Lane after a leisurely stroll and found Loras’ flat amongst the rows of gorgeous houses. There were no lights on though, and unsurprisingly perhaps, ringing the doorbell yielded no response.

Sighing, Renly sat down on the top step and wondered where on earth Loras had got to. He didn’t know whether to be worried or offended. He was possibly a bit of both. 


	54. Chapter 54

Renly sat on Loras’ doorstep for the next half an hour wondering what he ought to do. He’d just got out his phone to rather reluctantly make a call to Margaery when a car pulled up at the end of Loras’ drive. On closer inspection it was a black cab and Renly suddenly felt a lot better; it was Loras’ only form of transport nowadays.

Indeed, Loras emerged shortly from the parked car. The light was poor, only the moon and the dim glow of the street lights, but Renly thought he looked exhausted. There were deep shadows under his eyes and he was walking slightly hunched over, as if he desired nothing more than to go to bed. He looked like he’d aged a decade.

It was slightly worrying, Renly thought, but he went for a cheerful wave regardless. “Where’ve you been?” he laughed. “You stood me up.”

Loras’ head jerked up like he was a puppet whose string had been yanked on. It was only then that he seemed to see Renly and his face changed instantly. He seemed no longer tired, a scowl twisting across his face instead. He was clearly in a foul mood and Renly couldn’t help but feel a little disconcerted. It was months and months since Loras had ever looked at him like that.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, cocking his head.

Loras’ face twisted with fury. “ _You_ are asking _me_ what’s wrong? Just go the fuck home, Renly. I’m really not in the mood.”

Renly flinched. “Okay…” he said slowly, standing up. “What have I done?”

“What have you done?” Loras echoed his words back to him bitterly. He reached into his bag and drew out a very crumpled piece of paper. “Here,” he snapped, passing it to him. “ _Enjoy._ Because I sure know I did.”

Renly recognised Jaime’s handwriting on it even in the dim light. He blanched. As far as he’d been aware, that piece of paper should have been innocently at the bottom of the bin in his office by now.

“Loras,” he whispered, his throat tightening. “Where did you get that?”

“I was handed it by a Mr. Petyr Baelish in his London office this afternoon and have paid him through the nose not to publish it. Don’t ask me how _he_ got hold of it because I don’t know. I probably don't want to know.”

Renly’s blood ran a little cold. He had no idea how that piece of paper ended up in Petyr Baelish's hands and yet he vowed to find out. “I didn’t write that,” he protested weakly, the guilt consuming him regardless. “You know my handwriting and that’s not it.”

“No it’s not,” Loras agreed. Taking it back, he flipped the piece of paper over, fingers trembling with silent rage. “But the next time you decide to write a list about all the things you hate about me, why don’t you try _not_ writing it on the back of letter headed paper?”

Renly winced. It was indeed company paper and his name was even at the top of it under Robert’s company logo. “Yes, but I didn’t write it,”

“I know you didn’t,” Loras snapped. He pushed past him to get to his front door, elbowing Renly out of the way.

Renly tried to catch his arm. “Doesn’t that make it a little better then?” 

Loras turned abruptly, almost knocking Renly off the steps. “No,” he almost snarled, crumpling the piece of paper further in his fist. “It doesn’t make it any better. Do you think it feels nice to know that you think all this about me? That you told your friends all this about me?”

Renly winced. He wondered fleetingly if telling Loras why Sansa had felt it necessary to write the list in the first place would help. Somehow, he didn't think it would improve the situation much. Quite honestly he had to wonder if there was _anything_ he could say to Loras that would improve the situation and yet he knew he had to try. “Please, Loras," he pleaded. "Hear me out, I can explain.” 

“No it’s quite all right, Renly. You don’t need to explain. It’s not like I have feelings or anything.” The key screeching in the lock, he kicked the door open so hard that it crashed against the hall wall. “Now fuck off. I don’t want you here.”

Renly closed his eyes briefly. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him; or at least that he’d wake up and find this was all a nightmare. Margaery, he knew, was going to hunt him down and murder him and yet that was the least of his worries right now. He’d grown so used to seeing Loras’ smiles directed towards him that the scowls now seemed to burn his very skin.

“Let us talk about this,” he begged. “Can’t we be reasonable?”

“Fine,” Loras hissed. “Let’s talk about this.” Fingers finding the collar of Renly’s shirt collar, he pulled him inside with an iron grip. For a moment Renly feared that he was going to slam him against the wall, and indeed, it seemed to take all of his self-restraint not to. “You tell me what’s _not_ reasonable then about writing a list of hurtful things that you hate about me with your friends,” he spat.

Renly hated the way he’d worded that but he supposed he deserved it. “Loras,” he tried again, only to be interrupted once more.

“No, because I really needed this didn’t I?” The fury on Loras’ face was tangible. “What I really needed right now was for someone I care about to kick me while I’m down.”

His words cut through Renly like a knife. “Loras,” he pleased. “Just let me sp-”

“-and why not?” Loras continued bitterly, talking to himself more than Renly. “Everyone else is having their turn ridiculing me after all. Why not you? You and that New York DJ should get together sometime; you can bitch about me over tea and biscuits and a lot of sex that will be much better without vanilla old me getting in the way.”

He stalked up the stairs and Renly ran after him. He didn’t think he’d ever felt more terrible in his life. “I’m sorry, Loras,” he called after him. “It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a stupid list.”

Loras turned sharply, glaring daggers. “Yeah,” he laughed bitterly. “Because it doesn’t mean anything to have to be told by a slimy media grease-ball that your ex-boyfriend apparently thinks you’re a stupid retard who can’t spell, that your sex life sucked, and that he and his friends have been laughing about it all behind your back.”

Renly gulped and tried to put a hand on his arm. “Loras,” he breathed.

Loras slapped his hand away. “Renly, if you could even _fathom_ how embarrassed I am right now.”

“I can,” Renly told him. “And you’re right; you have every right to hate me right now.”

“Then perhaps you’ll realise that I don’t want to see you and that I want you to get the fuck out of my flat.” He gave Renly’s shoulder a sharp jab and Renly reckoned he was lucky not to be slapped round the face. “Why don’t you go back to Sansa and tell her that Loras got aggressive with you and spelled it with two ‘G’s?”

Renly didn’t think it the time to point out that there were actually two ‘G’s in aggressive. “Please,” he pleaded, standing his ground. “There has to be some way we can sort this out between us.”

“Fine then,” Loras snapped. “If you won’t go I will.” Sliding past Renly, he stalked down the stairs and slammed the door behind him with such force that the walls shook.

It had been a long time since Renly cried and yet he cried now, sinking down onto the top step of the stairs and burying his head in his knees before the walls had even stopped trembling. He didn’t think he’d ever felt worse.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t really know how long he sat there. It must have been a decent amount of time though, for eventually he raised his head to the sound of a key in the lock downstairs. Loras was evidently back.

It was a slightly terrifying thought and Renly briefly considered hiding in one of the bedrooms and hoping that Loras didn’t notice him. He didn’t have time to put his plan into action though and he froze on the top step as he saw Loras came into the hall, the tears still wet on his face.

Loras’ eyes were red too and he stiffened when he saw that Renly was still there, a hand going to his wet cheeks self-consciously. He seemed even more exhausted than he had earlier. He didn't seem to have the strength to even argue. 

“Why are you still here?” he asked, more resigned this time. “What didn’t you understand about fuck off?”

“I wanted to apologise,” Renly told him, wiping his cheeks too. “I shouldn’t have ever have let anyone write that.”

Loras shrugged. He seemed to want to come up the stairs but didn’t want to walk past Renly either. “What does it matter?” he mumbled, looking down at his feet as he paused awkwardly in his own hallway. “Most of it was probably true anyway. Now could you leave me in peace please.”

“Whether any of its true or not isn’t the point,” Renly whispered. “I hurt your feelings.”

Loras shrugged again and apparently decided to dare walking up the stairs. “Nobody gives a shit about my feelings,” he said quietly, “so I need to learn not to too.” Squeezing past Renly, he made to walk into his living room. He had a shopping bag in his hand and Renly could see that he had bought several bottles of wine. He supposed that it was better than some of the alternatives but he didn’t feel particularly comfortable either with the fact that Loras evidently intended to sit and drink them alone until he felt better.

“ _I_ give a shit about your feelings,” Renly protested, not wanting to leave him by himself to get plastered. “I really do, now come on. Let us make amends. We can get take away or something tonight, do something fun.”

He fully expected Loras to throw the offer back in his face, but Renly saw him glance at his shopping bag as if considering his options. He looked a little desperate for a moment.

“All right,” he whispered. “You take care of the food.”

Wearily, he sat down on the sofa, tucking his knees underneath him as he turned the TV on. He got his wine out regardless and Renly saw him swig it from the bottle out of the corner of his eye as he dialled for a take-away. It wasn’t the best way for Loras to drink his wine, and so once the food had come, he went to the kitchen for a couple of glasses.

They sat side by side on the sofa with plates on their laps. Loras poured Renly a glass of wine without asking and Renly accepted it equally without a word. He didn’t particularly want it, but he thought it best that Loras didn’t drink three bottles of wine by himself. Loras had never been good at holding his liquor, and Renly dreaded to think what had happened to his tolerance after six months stone cold sober.

They didn’t speak much, just sitting silently next to each other whilst Loras seemingly made it his attention to get through as much of the bottle as he could. It was a terrible idea, but Renly didn’t think he was really in a position to be telling Loras what to do right now. He reckoned that Loras had all the right in the world to want a drink right now.

It was only after the fourth glass that Loras started to lose the little composure he’d previously had. His gaze became less intently focused on the TV, his fingers began shaking a little; all in all, he looked utterly miserable and Renly couldn’t have felt more terrible. He’d never seen Loras look quite so hopeless; even in that hospital bed he’d had more spirit. Renly wished he could go back in time, to pluck the pen out of Jaime’s hand, or to burn the god-forsaken piece of paper, or even further perhaps, so that he could keep his bloody mouth shut in the first place.

He touched a hand to Loras’ arm, wishing he could make him understand how terrible about it he felt. “Loras,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to upset you, Loras. Not ever.”

Loras shrugged, turning his face down towards his knees. “I just feel like such an idiot, Ren,” he whispered, his words a little muddled. “All those nights spent curled up with you when I thought you liked having me there.” His voice broke. “And to find out now you didn’t like my body.”

Renly didn’t know what to say to that; he felt like a disgrace of a human being. “Don’t say that,” he eventually sighed. “I always thought you were ridiculously beautiful. I still do actually. You’re just a little on the thin side. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re gorgeous.”

Loras looked up at him, eyes wide and all too wet; it looked like he might cry again. “You always say such lovely things, Ren,” he sighed. He looked down at his glass of wine, picking it up to take another large gulp. “But I guess that’s maybe not what you’re always thinking.”

Renly said nothing; he had nothing to say to that.

Loras set down his wine and looked up at him again. “You know why I agreed to call you that night in the hospital, Renly?”

Renly could just about bear to look at him. “Why?” he whispered.

Loras ran a very shaky hand through his hair. “It’s because I always felt safe with you, Ren, good about myself even. I thought you wouldn’t laugh and make fun of me like everyone else was going to.” He took a deep trembling breath. “I don’t know how to think of you anymore.”

Renly gulped. He had to look away in shame. Screwing his face up, he took a long drink, wondering if it might make him feel any better. Somehow, he doubted it; he wasn’t sure anything was capable of making him feel better right now. Quite honestly, he wanted to go home and bury himself under his duvet, to try and forget about this evening entirely, and yet he didn’t feel he could leave Loras here by himself. Margaery would kill him if she ever learnt that he’d left Loras alone in such a vulnerable state. Biting back a sigh, he drained his glass, determined to stay until he was no longer needed, even if that meant staying well past how long he was wanted. It was the least his guilty conscious could do.

Neither of them spoke though after that, and it was only when they’d emptied two out of the three bottles of wine that Renly dared to turn to him again.

“You need to go to bed,” he said softly. He got to his feet and found himself only a little unstable. He’d probably drunk more than his fair share of the two bottles of wine but it would have taken the entirety of both of them to get him well and truly drunk.

Loras on the other hand, at four or five stone lighter than him, looked a little worse for wear. He’d evidently drunk enough to let Renly pull him to his feet without an argument, his plate of uneaten food sliding onto the sofa.

Renly didn’t bother suggesting he got changed, he just lifted the covers so that Loras could get into bed. Hopefully he’d sleep, and hopefully, though this was very tenuous indeed, he’d feel better in the morning. Renly thought it somehow unlikely.

“Do you want me to go now?” he asked, sitting on the edge of Loras’ bed.

Loras said nothing and Renly touched a hand to his hair, pushing it off his face. “Loras?” he murmured again.

Loras opened his eyes only to shrug. “You can do whatever you like, Ren.”

Renly bit back a sigh and wound a strand of Loras’ hair around his finger. “Aw cheer up,” he breathed. “We’ve bounced back from worse than this.”

Loras’ face crumpled though, and he rolled over onto his side to face Renly. “What do I have to cheer up about Renly? he asked, his face pale. “I always thought that you enjoyed, you know, _being_ with me like that, and now you tell me you didn’t, that I’m boring and rubbish apparently. Do you know how that feels Ren? Well it feels shit is how it feels.”

Renly winced. “Don’t say that,” he whispered.

“Are you going to deny it then?” Loras whispered. For a minute he looked hopeful, a little less lost.

Renly sighed heavily, keeping his hand in Loras’ hair. Perhaps if he’d drunk less, he would have had enough sense to tell a lie and deny it completely, to say that Sansa and Jaime had made it up. Instead he went for what was a lot closer to the truth. “Our sex life could have been more varied, Loras,” he admitted. “But that’s just as much my fault as it was yours.”

Loras didn’t seem comforted. “So you didn’t enjoy it much then?”

“Of course I did,” Renly laughed under his breath. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t.”

Loras gulped. “Yeah, well anyone would probably 'enjoy' fucking anything.”

Renly sighed. “You’re just being silly now.” He pushed Loras’ hair out of his eyes for him again. “I’ll grant you, I’ve slept with technically better skilled men, but you? You were sweet in bed.” He chanced a small smile. “You know what, Loras. I’ve never really had any intimate sex except with you.”

“Not even with Satin?”

Renly resisted the urge to laugh. “Especially not with Satin,” he murmured.

“And you liked _intimate?_ ” Loras asked stiffly. He looked a little less miserable though, and he tilted his face up towards Renly’s as if he was hopeful for that to be true. His eyes were wide, and for a moment, he looked so vulnerable that Renly just wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I did like that.”

Loras’ lips tasted of wine and tears and Renly knew it was a terrible idea even as he let it happen.


	55. Chapter 55

Renly woke up with an entirely dead arm, the beginnings of a very slight headache, and a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that told him he'd done something terribly wrong. Yawning, he tried to rub the sore spot on his temple and quickly realised quite why he had that dead arm. Trapped under Loras, it must have been like that all night. He'd started pulling it out from underneath him before he remembered why he felt so uneasy, and just like that, that spark of a nagging feeling was fanned into a flame.

"Fuck," he groaned, leaving his arm where it was. Loras was still pressed against him where he'd fallen asleep last night, his face buried in Renly's bare shoulder. It was the worst possible thing that Renly reckoned he could have done last night and yet he couldn't deny how right it felt. It was if he'd rewound the clock a year and a half, more now probably, and Renly wished he lived in a world which didn't have consequences. It would be so easy after all, he thought, just to run his hands down Loras' back, to wake him up gently before rolling him over and making love to him again.

Sighing though, he settled for burrowing back down under the covers and leaning his head against Loras', retreating back into the warmth of him. It was all oddly reassuring, which was paradoxical, Renly found, seeing as it was his proximity to Loras that was the main problem he had right now. He ignored that for the moment though and merely tightened his arms around him. There would be time later, he thought, for fretting about what he'd done, for panicking madly about the false hope he knew for sure that he'd have given Loras. For now though, he just wanted to enjoy a few more moments of peace. Loras' body was warm against his; his curls were soft against his face; his breathing was slow and steady. Even though he knew better, it was almost enough to tempt Renly into believing that getting back together was a glorious idea too.

He allowed himself another quarter of an hour before moving, and gently, he pulled his arm out from underneath Loras, wincing when the feeling came rushing back. It took a few moments before it felt normal again, and sighing, he forced himself to leave the warmth of Loras' body. Now, he supposed, he could do nothing but face up to the fact that a part of him, a _large_ part of him if he was brutally honest, still wanted more from Loras than his friendship. It was a troubling thought but one that didn't surprise him.

His clothes were in a heap at the side of the bed and Renly dressed a little miserably in the semi-darkness, convinced despite his better judgement that he could still see Loras' unsure handprints in his crumpled shirt, or the timid press of his fingers in his creased trousers. As was perhaps to be expected from a man who'd had his sexual prowess ripped to shred only hours earlier, Loras had been cautious, nervous like Renly had never seen him before. He'd clearly wanted it, but he'd quite clearly been terribly embarrassed too, and it had damn near broken Renly's heart to see him deliberate nervously over every touch they'd shared and to see him constantly hesitate for fear of doing something badly. He'd been like a fish out of water and yet Renly thought it said volumes about how much trust Loras had in him that he'd even let Renly remove his clothes in the first place- that he'd let Renly see a body which he was told Renly found unattractive.

That trust in him was sadly misplaced, Renly thought as he looked down at Loras, lying alone now in the crumpled mess they'd made of the bed together. If he'd had Loras' interests truly at heart yesterday, he'd have tucked him safely up in bed and left him to sleep off the bottle of wine he'd drank alone. He'd slept with him because he wanted to, and because sleeping with him had somehow seemed like a quick fix, a way to reassure him that he was still desirable, that he was still loved even. Renly reckoned both were terrible motives.

Sighing, he sat back down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through Loras' curls. The dying phone in his pocket told him that it was quarter to seven: time to be getting to work, and yet Renly couldn't decide whether to wake Loras or not before going. He imagined that they'd need to have a conversation, a very long one perhaps that would no doubt break Loras' heart, and yet Renly wasn't sure that the early hours of the morning were the best time for that conversation.

He looked back down at Loras. He was sleeping peacefully still, one hand gripped loosely around the covers, unaware as of yet that the world he'd no doubt begun building in his head as soon as Renly had kissed him was about to come crashing down without warning.

"God," Renly sighed heavily, "What have I done?" He trailed a few fingers sadly across Loras' cheek. Never before had he felt more terrible, not even yesterday. It had been a miracle that Loras had given him the time of day last night and now, Renly wasn't sure how, or even _if,_ he was going to be able to dig himself out of this mess.

It was miserably thus that he took out a receipt from his wallet and scrawled on the back of it that they really needed to talk later. He wasn't quite sure how Loras would interpret that; if he'd read it and cry or if he'd manage to read it without realising what it probably meant. Renly wasn't sure which one to hope for either. He hated to think of Loras waking up alone to such misery, but he wasn't sure that a few more hours of ignorant bliss would be helpful for him either.

It was done now though and Renly tried not to look back at him as he slipped out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

For once, Renly was very glad that it wasn't one of the days that Sansa didn't work. If she'd been here, he'd have had to at least admit to the terrible mistake he'd made last night. Or he'd have had to keep it quiet and lie when she asked why he looked so miserable. He didn't imagine that either option would have appealed to him. He'd have also had to ask her about how she thought Peytr Baelish might have gotten hold of the list she and Jaime had written and that wouldn't have been pleasant either. Whilst it was a question that he'd certainly need an answer to at some point, right now Renly couldn't bring himself to think about anything which didn't explicitly revolve around what he was going to say to Loras about last night, or how he was going to try to let him down gently.

Midday was the earliest that he'd be able to take his lunch break and return to Loras', and Renly couldn't help watching the clock anxiously. He didn't know whether to hope that the time passed quickly or that it would inch slowly by, and yet even so, his eyes remained glued to the clock on the wall.

As it happened, the time passed too quickly, far too quickly for Renly's liking. He still had no idea as to what he was going to say by the time that the clock struck midday and it was wearily that he got to his feet, resigned himself with some reluctance to the fact that he'd have to face the music now.

It took him less time too than he would have liked to get to Loras'. For the first time in his life, Renly had sat in the back of a taxi willing the London traffic to move slower, urging every car in front of him to slow its pace, or even stall perhaps in the middle of the road and cause a hold up.

His limbs felt like lead as he slid out of the taxi, and his hand seemed to protest as he raised it to knock on Loras' large white door.

There was a brief moment where he let himself vainly hope that Loras wasn't in and then he heard the dull thud of footsteps coming down the stairs. The door swung open then and as he'd half-expected and feared, Loras was all smiles when he emerged in the doorway. There was a spring in his step and his eyes, so dull and tired as of late, seemed golden rather than brown again. Loras, it seemed, was already ready to forgive that list, and all it had taken was a few kind words and a quick shag. There was something rather sad about that, Renly reckoned, and he fought back the urge to cry as Loras leant in to kiss his cheek, evidently convinced that that was a suitable greeting now.

Renly let him kiss his cheek without a fuss and followed him up silently, willing Loras to cotton on a little.

Needless to say, Loras didn't. To Renly's despair, he looked twenty-one again as he all but bounced up the stairs. Indeed, had Renly not known otherwise, he'd never have guessed that it had been just yesterday evening that Loras had been so miserable, so hurt. Cringing, he wondered whether he ought to have left a more explicit message this morning.

It was only when they were up the stairs that Renly dared speak. "Hey," he murmured, looking down at his feet in shame.

Loras evidently didn't read his tone. "Hey," he smiled. It was slightly coy, slightly shy, and Renly had to gulp painfully.

"Loras." The name stuck awkwardly on Renly's tongue like toffee. “Why don't we sit down before we say anything." He forced himself to meet Loras' eyes.

Slowly, the expression on Loras' face wobbled. His eyes widened and the smile gradually ran away from his face. He seemed suddenly smaller somehow, like he'd shrunk in on himself. He perhaps knew then that it wasn't going to be a nice conversation that he and Renly had.

He made no move to lead them out of the hallway; he just stood there silently. Eventually Renly took his wrist, leading him gently into the living room even though his legs still felt like lead. Tentatively, he sat down on one of the plush cream sofa before gesturing for Loras to join him.

It was a few moments before Loras did so. Slowly, he raised his face to Renly's. His eyes were large and his lips slightly parted. There was a silent plea in his expression, a thinly veiled desperation that made Renly want to run away and hide, or else to take him in his arms and kiss him again. It would be the start of a miserable vicious circle though and Renly knew he had to bite the bullet, regardless of how painful it would be for both of them, regardless of the fact that he knew of no way to soften the blow he was about to deal Loras.

He gulped loudly and Loras seemed to sense the words he dreaded were close. His eyes met Renly's and there was a sadness there that shattered Renly's heart into a thousand pieces.

"Please, Ren," he whispered. "Please don't."

Renly felt like he'd stabbed him. "I'm so sorry, Loras," he said softly.

Loras' face didn't change but his shoulders slumped a little more. He looked like a puppet with its strings cut.

Renly took another deep breath before he dared say the words that Loras needed to hear. "Last night was a mistake, Loras," he told him as gently as he could, ignoring the splitting pain in his chest as it protested. "For both of us."

Loras gulped; he looked a little like he might cry. "Why?" he breathed.

Renly put a hand on his arm, trying to soothe a wound he knew he couldn't heal. "We were both drunk, Loras. We didn't think it through."

Loras said nothing. His eyes left Renly's face then and he stared vacantly down at the hands that he'd folded in his lap. "Okay," he said blankly.

Renly winced. " _Okay?_ " he questioned hesitantly.

"Yes," Loras said quietly. "Okay." He turned his face away.

Renly nodded, unsure. He took his hand off Loras' arm tentatively. "Come on then," he murmured, "I'll make you some lunch, make sure you eat something." He didn't say 'look after' but he imagined that both he and Loras were aware of what he meant.

Loras merely continued staring down at his hands though. "I'd rather you just went actually," he murmured eventually. "If that's okay with you." There was no malice in his tone, and Renly felt the knife twist in his chest. It was a broken man sitting beside him, a broken one and an embarrassed one, pink curling up his neck and writing itself across his cheeks like the words he so desperately hadn't wanted to hear.

Renly wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him like he'd done this morning, to reassure him. As it was though, he got hesitantly to his feet, deliberating. "Are you sure you'll be all right here?" he asked softly.

Loras raised his head, eyes slightly wet with tears that Renly imagined would fall as soon as he left the room. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

Renly faltered; he didn't want to voice his lack of faith in Loras coping. "Well you're all alone here," he said eventually.

Loras shrugged, eyes closing. "I'm alone most of the time Ren," he breathed.

Renly duly fled.


	56. Chapter 56

Renly went home from work that evening feeling as if he’d passed the entire day drowning kittens. He didn’t think he’d ever felt more guilty than he did that evening, and despite doing his best to not dwell on it, he couldn’t help but see Loras’ face every time he closed his eyes, his distress written plainly across his features. The image had burned itself onto the backs of Renly’s eyelids and it tortured him.

All in all, Renly didn’t think he could have hurt him more if he’d tried. A knife in the stomach would probably have hurt him less, Renly thought, and that knowledge tormented him all evening. Several times he was tempted to call Satin, just to sob down the phone to him. It was only the fear of admitting what he’d done that prevented him.

He was curled up in bed feeling like a terrible human being when he heard his phone ring on his bedside table. It was very reluctantly that he emerged from under the covers to look at it, part of him desperately hoping that it would be Loras.

His heart almost stopped when he saw that it was Margaery ringing, and he almost hurled his phone across the room, not caring in the slightest whether the screen smashed. He then ducked back under the covers, wrapping them tightly around him, a pillow firmly over his head to muffle the ringing.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief when his phone finally stopped ringing and his room was comfortingly silent again.

He almost jumped though when it rang again. It seemed she was persistent and Renly winced, guilt rising up in his throat and threatening to choke him.

It was only when she rang a fourth time that he felt he had to pick up and face up to his actions. Nervously, he got out of bed and found his phone where it was still ringing on the floor.

“Hello,” he breathed, holding the phone a little further from his ear than he would usually in case she shouted at him.

“I need you to do me a favour.”

There was no anger in her tone and Renly almost dropped the phone. _She doesn’t know yet_ , he realised with a start. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one who enlightened her.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

“Loras just texted me to say he wants me to come round, but I’m all the way up in Leeds for a friend’s birthday.” She sounded a little frantic. ”And now he’s not answering his phone. Could you go round for me? Make sure he’s all right?”

Renly paused, dread filling him. He couldn’t help but immediately think the worst, and under any other circumstances he’d have agreed to Margaery’s request without any hesitation and raced over there. He had a feeling though that Loras probably wouldn’t be very receptive to this idea, regardless of what he’d done. “Well maybe he specifically wants you,” he said diplomatically.

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Renly,” she said shortly. “This is my brother we’re talking about. He _always_ wants to see you.”

He won’t want to see me tonight, Renly wanted to tell her. He stayed quiet though.

“And I’m worried about him,” Margaery continued. “This is unlike him.”

Renly cringed, struck with the sudden urge to confess. He forced it down though. He couldn’t face it. If the gods were good it was possible that Loras would never even tell her.

“Well?” she asked.

Renly sighed. He supposed he had no real choice but to do what she wanted. It wasn’t as if Loras had anyone else in London who gave a shit about him. “Well I guess I could go round if you think he needs it,” he offered reluctantly, trying not to think about _why_ Loras might need someone to come round. He desperately ignored the loud voice in his head that screamed that this was all his fault.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding a little relieved. “The next door neighbour has a key if he doesn’t let you in. I’ll ring ahead to let her know you might be needing it.”

Renly was barely listening by this point. ‘If he doesn’t let you in’ was what she’d said. ‘If he’s not in a capable state to let you in’ was what Renly heard. He imagined that it was what she intended too, and grabbing his jacket and his car keys, he raced down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

Margaery had been right about Loras not letting him in. The lights were on in almost every single room upstairs and yet nobody came to the door even when Renly knocked for the third time. Thankfully though, it took only Renly a few minutes to get the key off the neighbour, Margaery having played her part well.

He found both the kitchen and the living room empty. As was the bedroom which Loras usually slept in, the bedroom that they’d both slept in last night. Everything there had clearly not been touched since the morning. There was a damp towel over the chair from where Loras had evidently had a shower; the sheets they’d had sex in were still rumpled and a little out of place. It all made Renly feel terrible and he supposed that it made sense that Loras didn’t want to be in this bedroom.

It wasn’t until Renly reached the fourth bedroom that he found him. Pushing the door open, he quickly saw that Loras was slumped up in bed, the covers bunched up over his shoulders. He had a bottle of vodka propped up against his side that was almost empty.

It took him a few moments to look up. “Whatcha doin’ here?” he slurred.

Renly winced in the doorway. It was a drunken mess before his eyes and that tugged painfully at his guilty conscience. He couldn’t ignore the fact though that he found himself relieved to see Loras at least awake and speaking.

“Oh Loras,” he sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’ll do nuffin with me,” Loras mumbled. “Leave me alone, go home, fuck somebody else this evening.”

Renly ignored that comment. He came to sit on the side of the bed, perching there awkwardly and trying not to knock Loras’ bottle of vodka over. “Is it just alcohol?” he asked, bracing himself for the answer.

Loras’ head jerked a little erratically. “Yes.”

Renly was unconvinced. “You sure?”

“Don’t you not trust me?” He tried to bring the bottle of vodka to his lips and poured most of it down himself.

Renly sighed and pried the bottle off him. “I don’t know?”

“Fair.” The word was a barely audible mumble and there was some shame in it.

Renly swivelled, scanning the room for anything that might incriminate Loras. He didn’t have to look far and he wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. He couldn’t see any cocaine anywhere but the packet of medication that Loras took for his anxiety was empty on the bedside table next to him.

Leaning across the bed, he cupped Loras’ chin and forced it up so that Loras could look him in the eye. “Did you take all of these?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Renly gulped. He tightened his hand on Loras’ chin and forced himself to remain calm. “And why did you do that?”

“’cos I didn’t have any coke.” He grabbed again for the vodka and Renly placed it on the floor out of his reach. He then leant over him to pick up the empty packet of medication on the bedside table.

“Was this packet full?” he asked.

Loras shrugged, his head hitting the headboard with an audible smack as he leant back against it. “Can’t ‘member,” he said.

His movement didn’t seem quite right even for a drunk person and Renly gulped. He didn’t really know what to do. He turned the packet over and read the back of it. It was rather unenlightening. Whilst it did say that it wasn’t to be taken with alcohol, Renly didn’t reckon that there was any medication that didn’t say that.

His heart beating loudly in his chest, he got his phone out of his pocket to call 111. He didn’t think it was quite serious enough yet to call 999.

He watched Loras intently while it rang, pleased to see that he’d stopped searching for his bottle of vodka. Instead he’d merely closed his eyes.

“Hello,” a female’s voice almost startled Renly. “How can I help you?”

“Hello,” he replied, feeling a little relief. Loras’ eyes opened at the sound of his voice but Renly ignored his slurred protests. “My friend’s overdosed on…” he turned the packet over, “ _Ativan._ Benzodiazepines? If I said that right? And he’s drunk rather a lot of alcohol too.”

There was a pause. “Can you confirm the dosage, sir?”

Renly counted the empty foil cases. “About eight tablets at worst maybe?”

“I would advise you to bring your friend into an emergency ward,” she told him, voice reassuringly calm.

Renly looked down at Loras. He’d given up protesting now, but Renly imagined he’d still put up a good fight before he let him take him to A&E.

“And until I can?” Renly asked the nurse.

“Keep him calm, talk to him, don’t let him fall asleep.” She paused. “It’s very hard to overdose on Benzodiazepines but it can be a dangerous combination when taken with alcohol. I would really advise you to come into A&E.”

“All right,” Renly sighed. “Thank you then.” He put the phone down and turned back to Loras. “Okay Loras,” he murmured, taking his arm, “I need you to put some proper clothes on. I’m going to take you to A&E.” He paused, considering that. “Or some kind of private hospital.”

Loras closed his eyes and tried to push Renly’s hands away and missed by at least a foot. “Just leave me alone,” he said. “I’m happy here.”

Renly grimaced. “Of course you’re happy here. You’re absolutely off your face. But in an hour or so you’ll be wishing you weren’t born. _I’d_ probably be wishing I hadn’t been born if I’d drunk that much vodka.”

Loras shrugged, sinking down in bed until he was lying down. “An hour’s a long time,” he slurred, burying into the covers. “You could have sex with someone who isn’t me three times in a hour.”

Renly just sighed and dragged Loras back up into a sitting position. He wouldn’t force Loras into hospital quite yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had been right to say that Loras would be feeling worse for wear soon. Half an hour later, he held Loras’ hair off his face for him as he was sick. A quarter of an hour after that, he sat on the floor with him, holding him in his arms as Loras rocked back and forth and sobbed. The calm that had come with the Ativan had apparently worn off.

“Why?” Loras choked out, head against Renly’s shoulder. “Why don’t you want me?”

Renly sighed and held him closer, arms winding around his middle. “Hush, Loras,” he soothed. “We’re not getting into this right now. You’re off your face and you’ll just say stuff you’ll be embarrassed of in the morning.”

“I’m already embarrassed. Couldn’t possibly be more embarrassed.”

His tears were wet against Renly’s neck and Renly winced. “Hush sweetie,” he murmured.

“But I _am_ embarrassed, I really really am. You tell me I’m rubbish in bed, you sleep with me, and then you call it a mistake in the morning. What do I make of that, Ren? What _can_ I make of that?” It was a drunken ramble and yet it tore Renly’s heart in two.

“No, Loras,” he soothed, shaking his head and holding him close. “No, no. You mustn’t think that.”

Loras gave a sob into Renly’s neck that was half a hiccup. “But I do, Ren. I do think that. Perhaps you’d just forgotten how bad I was and then I reminded you.” His voice cracked.

Renly sighed, moving a hand to Loras’ back, tracing circles there to try and ease his sobs. “Look Loras,” he breathed. “I enjoyed it. I really did. The, um, _quality_ of last night has nothing to do with us not being able to get back together.”

“But if you enjoyed it then you’d sleep with me again.”

Renly cringed. The circles were evidently not working and so he returned to holding him tightly. “Not necessarily, Loras. You have to understand that.”

“But I don’t? Why can’t everything go back to how it was? You _used_ to love me.”

I probably still do, Renly thought to himself miserably. That was a thought that depressed him and he sighed heavily. “Tonight is a good example of why we can’t wind back the clock,” he told him wearily.

Loras raised his face from where it was buried in the crook of Renly’s neck. His eyes were red and sore, his cheeks wet. “But it’s not coke, Ren. It’s been half a year since I touched coke.”

Renly wiped his eyes with his sleeve for him. “But this isn’t great either,” he said quietly. “This isn’t _stable_ , Loras, and you need to be stable before you have any kind of relationship. And us, Loras? We parted on such toxic terms. A return to that wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

Loras gulped. His fingers were still shaking from the vodka but he managed to hook them around Renly’s shirt collar. “But if you took me back, I’d never touch anything again.” He pressed his fingers against Renly’s neck, not seeming to care that it was scratchy. “Would you do it, Ren? Would you take me back if I promised to stay clean?”

Renly couldn’t answer that. Truthfully, if he’d had some kind of God-given guarantee that that would be true, he probably might be inclined to take Loras back. Not right now, but at some point in the future when everything was less messed up and confused. He _didn’t_ trust Loras not to slip back into using again, however, and that was where the difference lay. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to trust Loras on that really.

“Shh,” he hushed. “I’ll stay until you’ve sobered up a little more.”

Loras’ fingers fell from around his shirt collar. “All right,” he breathed. He shut his eyes, slumping back against the wall, and Renly wondered if he was going to be sick again.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” he asked gently.

Loras’ eyes flickered open. “Yeah,” he whispered hoarsely. “I might go have a shower.”

“You want to take a shower?” Renly clarified. He wasn’t sure that that was a good idea.

Loras nodded though and was already stumbling to his feet. He was very wobbly and Renly jumped quickly up to help him. Though he didn’t necessarily think it was a good idea, he could understand why Loras wanted to have a shower. He no doubt felt more than a little rough: a shower would help him feel cleaner, more together. It might even sober him up, Renly reckoned.

This bedroom had an ensuite like all the others and Renly opened the door for him. He then waited hesitantly outside, relieved when he heard the water start running. There was rather a lot of banging as Loras evidently stumbled around but no loud crashes, and so Renly decided that he was probably okay in there.

It was a good ten minutes before the door was pulled open again and Renly startled to see that Loras was practically naked, with only a small hand towel to cover his modesty.

“Loras,” Renly sighed, catching his bare shoulder. “You need a bigger towel.”

“I don’t have one in here,” Loras mumbled, pushing past him. “Not my bathroom.” He made a beeline for the bed, his footsteps still a little unsteady.

“Wait Loras,” Renly protested, exasperated. “Not that bed. You’ve poured vodka all over it.” He reached for Loras’ arm and took his wrist, averting his eyes as Loras’ small towel slipped a little. “Now come on, let’s go get you a dressing gown or something. You can’t stay naked like this.”

Loras raised his face to Renly’s then and his expression was rather mournful. “What does it really matter, Ren?” he asked quietly. “You’ve seen me naked. You saw me naked yesterday. You shoved your cock up my arse yesterday. Without a condom.”

Renly winced. He wasn’t proud of that. “You’re right,” he murmured. “That was irresponsible of me.” He reckoned _all_ of last night had been irresponsible of him.

“Yeah,” Loras whispered, letting Renly lead him down the landing to another bedroom. “It was irresponsible of you. I could have all sorts of nasty diseases. I could have HIV for all you know.”

“I know that you don’t,” Renly told him firmly, draping his jacket around his shoulders just so less of Loras’ wet bare skin would be visible. “Margaery told me back in March that you got yourself tested and that it all came back negative.”

“Did she?” Loras sighed. “Well March was a long time ago. For all you know I could have been sleeping around a lot since then.”

Renly said nothing. He didn’t want to point out that he was quite aware that Loras had been in a dry spell since at least February. They’d reached Loras’ usual bedroom now and Renly opened the door, hopeful to find some clean pyjamas in there for him. It had slipped his mind though that the bed in there still hadn’t been made, that the sheets were still rumpled and sticky, and for a good long moment both of them stood in silence, looking at it.

“But of course,” Loras whispered as he looked. “Nobody sleeps with me unless they’re drunk or high. How silly of me to forget.” He sighed heavily. “Perhaps it was stupid of _me_ then. It’s you after all who dated the prostitute.”

Renly grimaced. “Satin was clean,” he said softly, gathering up some clean pyjamas from the wardrobe. “And we never had sex without protection anyway. It’s one of my rules.”

Loras turned away as he changed, his Dutch courage evidently fading. “Does that make me special then, Ren?” he asked quietly, back still to him. “Or does it mean that my sex life is so non-existent that you’ll run the risk?”

Renly said nothing. Loras had probably hit the nail right on the head with his second statement. He didn’t want to admit that though; it wasn’t exactly flattering for Loras.

Loras just sighed at his silence, and lifting the rumpled covers, climbed in amongst them.

Renly watched warily. “Surely you don’t want to sleep there?” he said gently. “We could put you in one of your other bedrooms.”

Loras shrugged. “But this is _my_ bedroom,” he pointed out. “I want to be with my things.” Wearily, he rolled over, tucking the crumpled covers around his shoulders, clad now in striped pyjamas which didn’t suit him.

Renly could understand that he wanted to be in his own bedroom and he didn’t argue. Silently, he crossed the room to put the lamp on. He then turned the main light off before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Are you all right, Loras?” he asked after a time.

Loras nodded into the pillow. “I’m fine,” he whispered, nestling down amongst the covers. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“It’s just I wish I was more like Satin,” he murmured quietly, his words barely audible. 

Renly felt his heart break again. “Don’t say that,” he breathed. “Really don’t. Why would you even begin to wish that?” He edged closer, tempted to put a hand in Loras’ wet hair despite his better judgement.

Loras sighed heavily. “Well things might be different if I was more like him.”

Renly gulped. “Loras,” he soothed. “It’s not about that. That sort of thing is neither here or there.”

“Is it not?” Loras asked wryly. He closed his eyes and Renly suspected he was beginning to feel the hangover. Indeed, the next words that came out of his mouth confirmed that. “I feel terrible, Ren,” he whispered hoarsely. “Really terrible.”

Renly did put his hand in Loras’ hair this time, pushing the wet strands out of his eyes for him. “Loras,” he breathed, leaning a little closer. “It’s going to be all right. I promise. And I’m always going to be here to take care of you, whatever happens between us. ”

“Okay,” Loras agreed heavily, not bothering to even open his eyes. “Can we just not talk about it?” He paused. “I think you can go home now actually. I’ll be all right.”

“I don’t think so,” Renly corrected quietly. “I think I’ll sit here for a little longer if that’s okay.”

“Okay,” Loras mumbled into his pillow. “If you like.” He raised his head. “And Renly?”

“Yes?”

“Tonight. It’s not your fault. You know that right?”

Renly sighed, and struck by a sudden urge, leant down to give him a kiss on the forehead. It was little more than a gentle press of lips to Loras' skin and yet Renly couldn't help himself. If he could have it his way he'd wrap Loras up in cotton wool and never expose him to the harsh reality of the real world again.

“If you say so, Loras,” he whispered. Personally, he was inclined to think that this _was_ all his fault.

Loras groaned. “It’s really not though, Renly. Everyone else copes with stuff without getting off their face. I need to learn to too.” He sighed heavily, brushing his fingers over the spot where Renly had just kissed him. “I was just so embarrassed, Ren. I wanted to forget.”

“I can understand that.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You know what, Loras,” Renly whispered, touching his hair again. “Tomorrow, I’ll take the day off work for you and I’ll take you home. I think you should be around your family right now.” He thought Loras needed a support network around him, one that didn’t consist of him alone and one that wouldn't accidentally sleep with him.

Loras nodded wearily. “Okay,” he agreed. “But it’s fine. I’ll get a taxi.”

Renly exhaled, exasperated. “Don’t be silly. I’ll take you.”

Loras opened his eyes again, gazing up at him. “ _Renly,_ ” he said earnestly. “I don’t _want_ you to take me.” With that, he rolled over in bed and turned to face the wall.

Renly reckoned that meant he was dismissed. Silently, he stood up and closed the door behind him.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being slow. Uni work got the better of me. The next chapter is already over half written though, so hopefully if you guys give me a good kick up the backside, I'll be able to pull my socks up!

6th November 2015

_BREAKING NEWS: Supermodel Loras Tyrell “checks into rehab” following his drug scandal in February. Sources close to the star call the move “unexpected” and have expressed their dismay._

Renly almost dropped the magazine in shock. 'Unexpected' was one word for it, a bloody miracle was another. He sighed heavily, rereading the sentence that had made him startle and wondering how that news ought to make him feel. He’d come to watch Sansa at one of her photo shoots with a heavy heart, the events of yesterday weighing heavily on his conscience, and now, he wasn’t sure whether he ought to feel relieved, guilty or a little insulted even. He’d once spent weeks telling Loras to go to rehab, _begging_ Loras to go to rehab even, and it was a kick in the stomach to see Loras go now, a year and a half too late. He supposed he should have known though that the only way Loras would ever step foot in such a place was by his own volition.

Renly was still torn between guilt and self pity when a shadow appeared over his shoulder. A gasp followed.

“Did you know that?” Sansa whispered, bending to read closer. She’d evidently had glitter put in her hair for the shoot and a shower of golden sparkles cascaded over Renly’s hands and the page as she leant forward.

“No,” Renly sighed, rubbing his temple wearily. “I didn’t know. Not until I read it just now.” He shut the magazine with a snap, brushing the glitter off his hands before turning to her. The photo shoot was for some kind of magazine aimed at young teenagers and Sansa looked the part. The stylists had dressed her up like a human barbie doll, layering her up in far too much pink which Renly personally thought clashed with her hair. They'd then added so much sparkly eye-shadow that Renly barely recognised her; it was weird, he thought, to have a serious conversation with her when she looked like she belonged behind a cellophane wrapper in a toy store.

“Do you know why he went?” she asked, perching on his lap seeing as there were no free chairs.

Renly sighed, wrapping a slightly reluctant arm around her like he would usually. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Sansa waited expectantly for him to elaborate and yet Renly said nothing.

“And?” she pushed eventually. Twisting on his lap, she met his eye, worry in her gaze.

“Well it’s sort of private,” Renly mumbled, leaning his cheek against her shoulder a little pathetically. He had no desire to admit to anyone that he and Loras had had sex the day before yesterday. It cast him in a very bad light and he expected that Loras would prefer that little fact to be kept private too, for the sake of his already very tattered pride. Sex was clearly painfully intimate for Loras; it left him vulnerable and exposed. He certainly didn't need to be exposed further.

Sansa crossed her arms though, evidently expecting to be told _something_ , and so Renly sighed.

“Well it was to do with that list you and Jaime made,” he said eventually, deciding to tell her only half the truth, the part for which she was a little responsible for too. “Somehow Baelish Magazine got hold of it and showed him." He grimaced. "Let's just say he didn't find it too flattering.”

Sansa’s eyes widened. “No,” she whispered, pushing her hair off her face and staring at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.” She closed her eyes briefly when Renly said nothing. “The sort of things on that list… they definitely weren’t for him to see. They weren’t for _anyone_ to see, Renly.”

“Tell me about it,” Renly mumbled. If he closed his eyes, he could still see the pain on Loras' face, the humiliation that many of the things scrawled across that piece of paper had caused him. He imagined that the stricken look on Loras' face might haunt him for the rest of his days.

“But how did anyone get hold of it?" Sansa breathed. "We put it in the bin?”

“Yes we did, didn’t we,” Renly sighed. He turned to look at her, trying to look past all the pink and glitter. “I want you to be honest with me. Did you tell anyone that we made it?”

Sansa looked a little guilty at his words and she shifted uncomfortably on his lap. “Well I mentioned it to Jeyne after lunch,” she said. “But that’s it. And Jeyne’s not that sort of girl, she's really not.”

 _But who did Jeyne mention it to,_ Renly had to think miserably to himself. He knew Jeyne Poole rather well and he agreed with Sansa- he didn’t think her the sort of girl to blab to the papers. She was well brought up, and if he was being cruelly honest, it had to be said that she didn’t tend to do much thinking by herself. She _was_ a gossip though, and there was no knowing how many people she might have told.

Renly sighed and glanced back at the headline of the magazine, feeling his stomach twist painfully again. It was his fault that Loras had essentially had to flee London, that he'd finally felt compelled to shut himself away in some hospital, and the least he could do was find out who had sold him out to Baelish.

 

* * *

 

 

“But I need to see it,” Renly insisted for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, on the verge of losing his temper. He'd never had cause to deal with Robert's security team before but now he understood why they had such an incompetent reputation. He'd spent the past quarter of an hour restraining the urge to punch something.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Baratheon," Meryn Trant told him again, "but it’s against company protocol to release CCTV footage.” His face was smug, his arms folded across his broad chest. He was clearly enjoying the little power that he had, despite the fact that guarding the CCTV footage was a rather piss poor job in Renly's opinion.

“Well can I speak to your manager then?” Renly smiled, trying to turn the charm back on. Barristan Selmy was the man in charge of security and he was known to be much more amenable than Mr. Trant. It was hardly difficult, Renly reckoned. Meryn Trant seemed to be the very definition of odious. With his droopy eyes and bushy beard, it said a lot that his demeanour was even more offensive than his appearance.

“I’m afraid Mr. Selmy is not available right now," was Meryn Trant's reply though, a small smile tugging at his thick lips.

Renly resisted the urge to scowl. “Well I really need to see that footage,” he wheedled. He drew himself up to his full height and was pleased by the fact that he towered above the man next to him. “I am Robert’s brother after all.”

“Yes, sir, but you’re not a partner of the company. You do not speak with the boss’ authority.”

Renly opened his mouth to argue and then shut it. It was pointless arguing with idiots. He knew exactly who he needed to go to. There was only one man in the company who refused to suffer fools.

 

* * *

 

 

Stannis was sitting at his desk when Renly walked in.

“What do you want, Renly?” he asked dryly. He didn't even bother to look up from his papers and his pen was still in hand as he pored over the documents in front of him. As was usual with Stannis, there as apparently going to be no preamble. They were going to get straight down to business.

Renly forced a smile that felt a little unnatural as he sat down opposite him. “I need a tiny little favour,” he said. He wasn't in the habit of asking this particular brother for favours, and he imagined that if he hadn't felt so terrible over Loras, he probably wouldn't have bothered.

“Mmm." Stannis still didn't look up; he was evidently very busy.

“I need to go through the CCTV footage from last Thursday, as in this Thursday just gone.”

"Why?"

"Because something was stolen from my office.”

Stannis finally glanced up. “Stolen?” he said through clenched teeth.

Renly nodded. “Stolen,” he insisted. “ _Illegally._ ” He punctuated that word slowly, watching it get under Stannis' skin. If there was one thing that his brother hated, it was anything that was against the rules.

Indeed, after only a few moments of deliberation, he pursed his lips and rose, shutting the office door behind him.

Renly didn't have to wait long. He was back in a few minutes with a disk; Meryn Trant had obviously not been able to put up much of a fight against such an iron will. “Thursday,” he said tightly as he sat back down. “Your floor.” Taking it out of the case with a snap, he slid it into his computer before beckoning for Renly to join him on his side of the desk.

Renly did so a little reluctantly; it felt strange to be sat next to Stannis like this. He couldn't remember the last time they'd sat so close. Usually, he and Stannis had at least a large desk between them. He felt better though when the disk was finally playing, and he stared intently at the screen, Stannis tilting it to improve the view.

It was only then that Renly realised how boring working in security must be. The picture was blurry and the corridors almost empty. He watched rather distantly as he saw a rather fuzzy Sansa enter at about half past eight, followed by himself five minutes later. Jaime wasn't far behind, and once he'd both been and gone, Stannis wrote his name down neatly on a piece of paper. He then wound the disk forward rapidly, the hours whizzing by in seconds until it got to midday. Stannis slowed it a little there, just in time to see Renly and Sansa exit for lunch, the fast forward making it look like they were skipping down the corridor.

They both then watched intently. A whole two hours blurred by though during which the door to Renly's office remained firmly closed. It was only when him and Sansa strolled leisurely back in at half past two that the door opened once more.

“Long lunch break, Renly,” Stannis commented tightly.

Renly smiled sheepishly. “Yeah,” he said. “Was a stressful day.” He scratched his head wearily. It had been a stressful day, and yet all the days following it had been distinctly more stressful.

The disk was wound forward rapidly then until the evening, the empty corridor only punctuated by Sansa flitting back and forth with various stacks of paper, her hair a red streak on film. It was presumably during one of those trips that she'd spoken to Jeyne Poole, and vaguely, Renly tried to remember which floor Jeyne worked on, trying to think of people she might have told. He only snapped back to reality when he saw himself and Sansa leave. It was now, he supposed, that they would hopefully spot the culprit.

“It’s only five twenty,” Stannis grunted, teeth gritted. “You’ll make up the extra ten minutes today.”

“Sure thing,” Renly said with a sigh. Usually he would have argued, but right now he really needed Stannis’ help.

It was about six thirty by the time that they saw anyone approach, and Renly recoiled, startling in his seat to see that the blurry figure on the tape had red hair. He thought back to Sansa as he'd seen her yesterday, glittery eyes wide as Renly had informed her that somebody had sold that list she'd made to Petyr Baelish.

“Miss Stark?” Stannis was evidently thinking along the same lines as Renly.

Renly peered closer, sceptical. “Slow it right down,” he instructed. The blurred figure looked _remarkably_ like Sansa but he refused to believe it.

Stannis slowed the disk down further before pausing it when the figure was a little closer and zooming in. It wasn't particularly helpful and Renly really rather wished that Robert had thought to update his security cameras at some point in the past two decades. He reckoned he could count the pixels.

“No,” he said slowly though as he looked. “It’s not Sansa, not unless she's changed her clothes. She was wearing blue on the tape earlier. This girl is in all black. I’ve no idea who she is.” He paused, a thought occurring to him that he was reluctant to voice with Stannis sat next to him. He took a deep breath before daring. “It’s not your assistant is it?”

Stannis’ jaw set. “It is certainly not,” he snapped. “Melisandre would not enter any office without permission.”

Renly shrugged. “She always wears red anyway," he admitted. He sighed, turning to his brother and meeting his steely blue eyes. “So you genuinely don’t know who that is, Stannis?”

“No,” he muttered. “But I shall find out. Even if I have to interrogate every red-haired person in this company.”

There were fourteen floors in the building and several hundred employees on each floor; if it had been anyone else who had said that, Renly would have taken their words with a very large pinch of salt. As it was though, it was Stannis. Renly had no doubt that he'd do exactly as he said.


	58. Chapter 58

Renly felt a little better knowing that Stannis was on his case. Stannis, he knew, would leave no stone unturned; he would root the culprit out sooner rather than later.

Nothing, however, would ease how much he found himself worrying over Loras. The media storm around him had suddenly picked up again, and every magazine and newspaper around seemed desperate to put their two cents in as to why Loras had admitted himself so suddenly to rehab. Renly could only hope that, shut up as he was in some medical centre in Kent, Loras would be rather sheltered from it all.

Several times over the next week Renly tried to call Loras, and yet he found that it went straight to voicemail every time. Neither did he ever receive any reply to any texts he sent. Presumably, Loras wasn’t allowed access to his phone.

It was after a fortnight that Renly finally reached the end of his tether, the lack of any word at all from Loras driving him slightly crazy. It was ignoring Sansa’s protests though that he found himself googling the visiting hours for the clinic that Loras was supposedly in, and it was perhaps even against his own better judgement that he found himself getting in the car the very next Saturday, armed with a box of chocolates and the address of the clinic already programmed into his phone’s SatNav.

 

* * *

 

 

It was only when Renly pulled up into the drive of the clinic that it occurred to him that he probably ought to have rung ahead and give Loras some warning that he was coming. As it was though, it was too late, and Renly did his best not to feel daunted as he parked his car and walked up the rather magnificent driveway.

Indeed, it was a rather grand place which Renly had come to, and yet perhaps not as grand as Renly had been expecting. The grounds were certainly huge, with gardens that seemed to stretch on for miles, all carpeted in red and orange and yellow as autumn slowly slipped away. It looked more like a stately home than anything else.

The inside too was not at all what Renly had been expecting. Instead of the cold clinical white that Renly had been anticipating, the reception was furnished beautifully, velvet curtains draped across the windows and plush chairs littering the room wherever one looked.

There was a front desk though, and the woman behind it smiled at Renly as he approached, looking up from the brochures she’d been neatly putting in a pile.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, voice a little sing-songy. “How can we help you today?” She looked very young and Renly wondered if she was just out of school.

“Hi,” he said. “I wanted to inquire about seeing Loras Tyrell.”

She looked a little flustered at that. “I’m afraid Mr Tyrell isn’t taking visitors, sir.”

Renly sighed. He wondered if they had to often deal with journalists here. “I do actually know him,” he protested. He got his driver’s license out of his wallet and slid it smoothly across the desk. “Ask him if he’ll see me won’t you?”

The girl deliberated for a few moments. Renly thought he saw her begin to protest and then the words seemed to silence themselves in her mouth as he flashed her a smile.

“Of course, sir,” she said, a pink blush rising to her cheeks as she turned to exit through a back door into another room. Renly couldn’t help feel a little pleased with himself as he watched her leave. Uninterested in women as he was, the effect he usually had on them couldn’t be denied. All it generally took was a smile and a little bit of a suggestive eye contact.

She was back in a few minutes and the pink blush in her cheeks had turned beetroot. “I’m really sorry, sir,” she told him apologetically. “But Mr. Tyrell says he doesn’t wish to accept visitors today.”

Renly frowned. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Well go ask him again,” he demanded.

Once more she scurried off. She was quicker this time, and once more she shook her head, embarrassed.

Renly sighed heavily, leaning his forearms against the counter. He really hadn’t anticipated being turned away by Loras but he wasn’t sure if he could really blame him; he had after all behaved rather terribly to him. Resigned, he took the box of chocolates from out under his arm and passed it to the girl standing opposite him.

“Give him these then will you please.” He couldn’t keep the misery out of his tone and he felt blood rising to his own cheeks. He wasn’t used to being turned away by anyone, and the fact that it was Loras doing the turning away added insult to injury. He’d grown so used to Loras desiring his company.

Thankfully, the girl didn’t waste any time in delivering the box of chocolates “Yes sir,” she nodded, leaving Renly alone to handle his embarrassment alone.

As soon as she was gone, Renly fled the reception area as quickly as he possibly could, wishing he’d never decided to come. This, he thought, was very much a wasted journey and one that was more than a little embarrassing. Long gone as she was, he could still feel the apologetic gaze of the young receptionist on him and he felt yet more blood rush to his cheeks. He’d been so sure that Loras would see him.

He was halfway back to his car when he heard a voice behind him.

“Wait,” it called.

Renly stopped in his tracks.

“You wanted to see me.” Loras’ voice was flat, resigned.

Renly spun round, wishing his cheeks weren’t so pink. Loras was standing a few yards behind him and Renly wondered how he’d managed to forget quite how gorgeous Loras was during the fortnight that he’d been absent. Dressed simply in jeans and a white t-shirt, Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen him look more effortlessly striking. Indeed, he was painfully reminded of those evenings where Loras had used to lounge around in one of the many jumpers he’d pulled so often from Renly’s wardrobe. They had all been too big for him, and Renly remembered thinking that he’d never looked lovelier. The same was perhaps true now. Backed by the grand building that had been his prison for the past fortnight with his hair fluttering in the cool breeze, Renly reckoned he could have stared at him forever.

Loras raised an eyebrow. He looked a little embarrassed too. “So,” he mumbled, voice quieter this time. “Are you going to just stand there or did you actually want to say anything.” It was only then that Renly noticed he was holding the box of chocolates that he had brought him. It was presumably those which had changed Loras’ mind about seeing him.

Renly nodded, his throat a little tight. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m fine.” Loras looked strained and he shifted from one foot to the other, no doubt cold in the chilly November weather. “Thanks for the chocolates. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” Renly mumbled. Indeed, it was hardly a good present for Loras. It was well known that Loras rarely indulged in anything like chocolate. “So, am I allowed to visit you?”

Loras paused, a hand coming to his hair as it always did when he wasn’t comfortable. “Um, I’d rather not actually,” he said, looking down at the ground. “I’m having a kind of quiet day today really.”

That was clearly code for ‘I don’t want to see you’ and Renly winced. He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t keep the hurt off his face. If truth be told, he’d missed Loras. He’d been counting on seeing him today.

Indeed, Loras looked flustered at his expression and he tugged at a curl, winding it anxiously around his finger, anchoring it in the breeze. “Just ten minutes then?” he suggested.

That was still a little disappointing but Renly supposed he would take what he could get. “That would be nice,” he said.

“Come on then.” Loras reached out for his wrist and then apparently thought better of it. Instead, he let his hand fall to hand beside his hip and turned around. He led him back up the drive and through the reception. Eventually they came to a room which Loras unlocked with a key.

“This my room,” he explained, opening the door to let Renly step through in front of him.

The room was as luxurious as the reception had been, heavy curtains adorning the bay windows and a gorgeous red chaise longue in the corner. If it wasn’t for the single bed, Renly could have thought it a very expensive hotel room.

It was to the sofa that Loras led him, and Renly sat down gladly, pleased that he hadn’t been forced to sit on Loras’ bed. “So how are you finding it here?” he asked softly. He tried to hide how incredulous he found it that Loras had come to such a place; he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He imagined that Loras had found the decision to come hard enough as it was.

Loras took a while to answer. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s quiet. Which is nice. I like the fact that it’s enclosed.”

He felt safe here is what he meant to say. Renly could understand that. Here he presumably had a routine, people who would make sure he was fed and that he took the medication he needed to.

“So how do you pass the time here?” he asked lamely. “What do you get up to?”

Loras shrugged, leaning back against the back of the sofa and staring absently up at the ceiling. “Not much. I can’t go to the group sessions because of confidentiality issues, but I have my own sessions.” He gulped, his cheeks flushing pink. “You know… anti-drugs stuff and whatnot.” He paused. “And we have recreation in the afternoons usually.”

Renly looked at his watch. It was three o’clock. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

Loras shrugged again. “Not really,” he mumbled. “I have recreation in my room rather than in the hall with everyone else.”

Renly couldn’t keep the pity off his face. He thought it a little sad that Loras couldn’t be part of the group, that he felt he couldn’t take part in any of the communal activities. “So what do you do for recreation?” he asked.

Loras tucked a curl behind his ear. “It’s usually like arts and crafts sort of stuff. I’m doing some sewing at the moment.”

Renly had to laugh. Loras apparently was determined to be a fashion model to the very last. “I didn’t know you could sew?” he chuckled.

“Yeah,” Loras smiled. “I can. I’ve picked it up over the years. I’m making Margaery a skirt right now. Who knows if it’ll be any good but I have to do something.” He sighed. “It was either that or doing something hippie like mediation or yoga.”

Renly laughed. He couldn’t really imagine Loras having the patience for either mediation or yoga. “So what do you do in the evenings then?” he asked.

Loras scratched his head. He looked properly embarrassed now. “Well… I’m taking Maths and English classes actually. I have those in the evenings.”

Renly was silent, guilt rising up his throat. He imagined that that had a lot to do with the contents of the list Loras had seen. It had called him uneducated and that had always been a rather sore spot for Loras as it was. “Well that’s really great,” he managed. “How are you finding them?”

Loras looked down at his feet. “Hard, I suppose.”

“Well it will be hard,” Renly soothed. “You’ve been out of mainstream school for, what, like nine years? It won’t be easy to get back into it.”

Loras shrugged. “Guess not,” he agreed.

Renly sighed. He thought they better change the subject. “And do you find being here is helping?”

Loras shrugged. “I don’t know. My counsellor thinks it will.”

Renly nodded along; he had no doubt that every medical professional who’d dealt with Loras would think it a good idea that he finally sought proper help. “So did she decide for you to come here then?” he asked.

Loras shook his head. “No,” he sighed. “I did.”

Renly nodded slowly. That pleased him. He reckoned he’d have felt a little insulted if Loras had listened to his counsellor where he’d once refused to listen to him. He could deal with Loras making his own mind up a little better. “So why did you decide to come here?” he asked.

Loras pushed his hair off his face and turned to look at him. “Because I have problems with substance abuse, Ren,” he said bluntly.

“Well yeah,” Renly murmured. “I kind of took that one for granted.” He sighed heavily. “I meant why did you decide to come here now of all times. What changed your mind about this sort of thing?”

Loras closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the sofa cushions. “Because I’m tired of dealing with it by myself,” he said, “Or of making you and Margaery deal with it.” He paused. “And I didn’t want to go home. I’d rather be by myself right now.”

Renly cocked his head. “That’s unlike you,” he ventured slowly, a little worried by that. “You _like_ going home. Why wouldn’t you go home?”

Loras sighed loudly, the exhalation of air sending the curls about his face flying in all directions. “Because I was embarrassed, Ren,” he whispered. “When I go home I’ll have to admit to Margaery’s face that I was wrong about me and you being able to be friends.”

That stung and Renly winced. “Does she know then?” He felt his heart move up into his throat.

“Yeah she does.” Loras evidently didn’t have to ask what Renly was referring to.

Renly gulped. He tried to change the subject rapidly. “Are you going to come back to London when you’re better then?” he asked.

Loras looked down at his hands. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “Probably not.”

“So where will you go instead?”

“Home, I suppose. Or maybe back to New York. I’ve still got my flat there after all.”

There was a silence. Renly didn’t dare voice that he thought Loras going back to New York by himself was a terrible idea. He could understand why he wanted to though. There was clearly little left for Loras in London aside from a very toxic friendship. The thought of Loras leaving London for good left a bitter taste in Renly’s mouth all the same though. He’d miss him and he’d miss him terribly, regardless of the fact that life would be so much easier with him gone.

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologise, Loras,” he said, “I really screwed up last week.”

Loras shrugged. “It’s fine, Ren. You don’t have to apologise to me.”

Renly swallowed painfully. “No I do,” he protested. “You were in a vulnerable place last week and you were relying on me to be the sensible one. Which I definitely wasn’t.” Indeed, Renly didn’t think he’d ever behaved more irresponsibly in his life, and that was saying a lot for him.

Loras merely closed his eyes though. “Really, it’s fine,” he murmured. He was quiet then, a thoughtful look on his face. “But can I ask you a question?”

That sounded dangerous but Renly nodded. “Sure.”

Loras turned to him, his gaze searching Renly’s face. “Why did you do it?”

Renly blinked. “Why did I do what?”

Loras looked exasperated and he fiddled with his hands. “ _You know,_ ” he prompted, evidently uncomfortable.

Renly bit back a groan. He thought they’d been through this. “Because it’s a bad idea, Loras. We’re both not in the right place for a relationsh-”

“No,” Loras cut him off. “I meant sleep with me.” He glanced up again, his face a little pained. “Why did you sleep with me, Ren?”

“I don’t know,” Renly sighed. “I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time.” That was half a lie, Renly thought to himself. He’d known even then that it would have terrible consequences.

“But why did it seem like a good idea?” Loras sighed, raising his face further to Renly’s. “Everyone seems to be in agreement that sleeping with me isn’t well… um very rewarding I guess. Why did you want to?” He gave a very small, very tentative smile and that fact alone terrified Renly. “I know you think it’s a bad idea that the two of us get involved again, and it probably is, but feelings can be separate from that can’t they?”

Renly froze. There was definitely a lot of truth in that, and if he was being very honest, he’d have had to agree that Loras had just put his finger exactly on the situation they were in. He hardly thought that admitting that would be helpful for either of them though. “Um, well, I guess they could be separate…” he agreed lightly, not sure how non-committal he ought to be trying to sound.

Apparently he didn’t have to try too hard, for Loras merely sighed, a resigned expression coming to his face. “Then why then?” he asked wearily. “If not that?”

Renly grimaced. He really didn’t like that question. “It was a spur of the moment thing, Loras,” he mumbled. “You looked so miserable, I felt terrible. It was all my fault that you were ups-”

Loras frowned then, holding up a hand to silence him. “So let me get this straight, you fucked me because you felt sorry for me?” His expression had changed like lightning and anger flickered dangerously under his skin.

Renly gulped. “Um,” he said, floundering slightly. He didn’t know how to answer that. He supposed that had been what triggered it but it certainly hadn’t been the main reason.

His silence clearly offended Loras, for he scowled. “Just go back to London, Renly,” he snapped. “I don’t want you here anymore.”

“You don’t mean that,” Renly protested.

Loras looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “Yeah I do,” he hissed, rising to his feet sharply. “I came here to get away from you, to be by myself with my embarrassment.”

Renly felt like Loras had slapped him in the face. He wanted to point out that he’d tried to do his best by him, that if it hadn’t been for him last week, Loras would probably have spent the night choking on his own vomit and crying alone.

“All right,” he whispered though, rising too. “But I’m sorry. I had the best intentions.”

Loras just scowled at him. “Well if those intentions were to thoroughly humiliate me, then you hit your mark,” he spat. “As flattered as I am that you were willing to take one for the team and let me enjoy myself for half an hour at your expense, pity sex is a new type of rubbish sex for me.”

“It wasn’t pity sex Loras,” Renly protested.

Loras yanked open the door before turning back around, furious accusation in his stare. “Then what was it then?” he demanded. “An attempt to get an apology out of me for that hurtful list your friends wrote? To get me to forgive you?”

“I don’t know,” Renly admitted. “I wanted it too in the moment. I thought it would be nice.”

“Well go be nice to somebody else now,” Loras hissed. “You’ll probably enjoy it more too.”

He held the door open for Renly and Renly scurried through it.


	59. Chapter 59

15th December 2015

_BAELISH EXCLUSIVE: LORAS TYRELL comes clean on his Rehab Stint and the Cocaine Addiction that brought him to the brink of destruction._

_“I only want to talk about this once,” Loras Tyrell says, dropping onto a couch at Baelish’s London offices. “I don’t want to be that guy who just goes on and on about addiction. I don’t want anybody’s pity.”_

_Loras Tyrell, the biggest and perhaps only male supermodel in the history of fashion, is sat with Baelish for the second day of exclusive candid talk about the past two years of his life: his descent into crack cocaine; that infamous sex tape and his collapse at New York Fashion Week last February; nearly dying from an overdose and his recent stint in rehab._

_It’s a terrifyingly real list of troubles but Loras Tyrell is adamant. “I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me,” he repeats, coolly._

_It’s clear to look at him. He’s sat with his shoulders back, 'I don’t give a fuck' written all over his face. It’s the look that designers and armies of women love him for. He’s a global superstar, and this is the face that’s won him that. Eyes slightly pissed off, mouth slightly apart, a stray curl over his eyes, and an obligatory cigarette dangling from his fingers, there’s no denying why he’s the only male model to have ever graced the cover of Vogue. But Loras Tyrell doesn’t do anything by halves. In 2010 he became one of only thirty five models in history to appear on all four Vogue covers, joining the likes of Gisele, Cindy, Twiggy and Naomi. He was only fourteen when he first landed the cover of Italian Vogue, fifteen when he was invited for the British and French editions and still only a tender seventeen when Anna Wintour finally succumbed to the furore surrounding Fashion’s new ‘it’ boy._

_“I don’t like talking about this,” Tyrell admits, picking lazily at a piece of cake for lunch. There are frequent, thoughtful pauses in the conversation, as if he’s still feeling his way out of trouble. There’s a tired impatience in his voice which speaks of the effect his ordeal must have had on his loved ones and his immediate future._

_Sitting in a Valentino leather jacket that was surely bespokely made for him and skinny black jeans that are slightly torn at the knee, Loras, who turned twenty three last June, barely looks a day older than the fifteen year old that the world fell in love with overnight back in 2008 . There’s a new found maturity on his face though, a look in his eyes that speaks of mistakes made and lessons learned._

_He’s composed, collected. He’s a far cry from the mess that turned up to New York Fashion Week last year on a cocktail of prescription drugs and cocaine and who then collapsed moments of the runway. It was to be the straw that broke the camel’s back; less than a week later he was found unconscious on the floor of his London hotel room._

_“After I arrived at NYFW,” Loras recalls, “I remember my manager taking me aside and telling me that I couldn’t do it, that I was too much of a mess. Of course I didn’t listen. I was high as fuck. I was adamant that I’d do it. I hadn’t slept in days, I couldn’t even remember the last time that I was sober, but I was adamant that I’d do it. In the end, Chanel bosses spent about half an hour talking about how they’d clean me up. I had more make up on that day than most of the female models put together, they altered all the sleeves to mask the signs that I’d been using. I remember having my head put under a cold tap half an hour before I was on, and then having about twenty stylists desperately trying to put my hair back into curls with GHDs.”_

_“The minute I walked out I knew that I was in trouble. I remember thinking to myself “this is not gonna be good. I’m still not quite sure how I made it all the way down that runway and back again. I could barely put one foot in front of the other.”_

_He collapsed barely seconds off that runway and what followed was one of the biggest media storms to ever surround a model. Tyrell was accused of anorexia, of bulimia; Chanel of propagating eating disorders._

_“I didn’t have an eating disorder,” Loras tells us though. “Unless you count what cocaine did to me. I was too out of it to care about eating, I had no appetite, no desire to eat. People would hand me stuff and I’d eat it but apart from that I never bothered. I literally didn’t care. I wasn’t in a place to be able to care, not about food, or work, or even about the fact that I was slowly digging my own grave.”_

XXX

_S_ o what happened? When we last met four years ago, you seemed to have everything together. How were you really feeling then?”

_Well I probably did feel like I had everything together. I was using even back then, and that’s what coke does to you. It makes you feel on top of the world. Relatively though, everything was pretty decent then. Drugs back then were something that I did for fun, when I was out. They weren’t something yet that I needed to get through the day. That only came later. Slowly, the stress of jetting back and forth between states every day got to me, I became reliant, and something which had been a bit of fun became something very destructive._

What drugs did you take?

_Cocaine has always been my vice, but it would be hard to name a drug that I haven’t dabbled in at least once. I guess I should count myself lucky though that I never found Heroin particularly appealing. As destructive as cocaine is, it’s not quite on the level of smack. Meth was heavenly though, and I think it was only knowing what it does to your face that stopped me going down that route._

When did you realise you had problems?

_That’s a difficult question. I guess I probably started to realise back in 2013 when I met Renly [Renly Baratheon, Tyrell’s partner for much of 2013]. I fell hard for him, and before then my addiction had only been a problem for me. I was only messing myself up, there wasn’t any guilt because I didn’t care that I was getting up in the morning and snorting half a gram of coke before heading off to work. I guess when you enter a relationship though, you have to realise that your actions don’t only affect you. They affect someone else now and you’re responsible for any harm that your actions cause them. I’d got so used to being independent though- I’d spent at least the last three years travelling by myself, working by myself- that it was strange to be in a couple for more than a few weeks at a time._

Strange in a good way?

_Definitely. I won’t lie; I was at an all-time high when I was living here in London with Renly. There’s something so grounding about having someone to come home in the evenings to, and we had a great time. Despite growing up on this side of the pond, I’d never really spent much time in London. Renly on the other hand is London through and through- you ask him to drive from A to B within the city and he’ll probably do it without a map and without even thinking about it. He knew all the best places to go, and that half a year was definitely the only time I felt more like a Londoner than a New Yorker- pretty shameful for a Brit, I know. Come to think of it actually, Renly assumed that I was American when we first met. That was pretty embarrassing really. I remember not being too impressed._

So how did you guys meet?

_At London Fashion Week actually. I’ve no idea what he was doing backstage, but essentially, he just came up to me and struck up a conversation. You’d be surprised how rarely people actually do that; most just tend to ask for selfies with you nowadays, which gets tiring very quickly. It was refreshing, and it probably helped that I thought he was the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, which is pretty damn impressive considering my line of work. We got very involved very quickly. If I’m completely honest, we probably got a bit ahead of ourselves, but it felt right at the time. It felt more than right at the time actually._

Was it love?

_Yeah, it was. Even if you ask me again in thirty years I think there’ll still be a part of me that’s still a little bit in love with him._

Were drugs the reason that you split?

_They definitely drove a wedge between us. I really screwed it up. I lied a lot to him about my drug usage and cocaine made me violent, aggressive, unpredictable. I must have been a nightmare to live with. One moment I’d be up and I’d be fine, and the next I’d be down. My drug use was starting to spiral out of control and it turned me into someone who was paranoid, jealous and insecure. Eventually it drove us apart and we had to call it a day._

Was it your break up with Renly then which forced you off the rails?

_I suppose that was the trigger, but it had probably been coming for a long time. I’d been running from the consequences of my addiction for a while; it had to catch up with me at some point. But yeah, I was in a dark place after I broke up with Renly. I hated myself for not having been able to salvage things, and I missed him like crazy. I went back to New York and I spent every day willing myself not to get on a plane and go back to London._

And your addiction escalated?

_Yeah. At one point back then I was probably spending about thirty grand a month on coke. I’d gone from using a couple of times a day, to using four or five times an hour. Nowadays, people often ask me how I physically managed to do that much in such a short space of time, but what people don’t understand is how much you have to take to feel even vaguely normal when you’re addicted. It got harder and harder to get any kind of decent high out of it. I’d get up in the morning and I’d be doing a gram before I could even bring myself to get out the door. I’d be so jittery by the end of the day that I had no hope in hell of sleeping, and then it would be on to a different cocktail of drugs. I’d be binging on benzos and methadone until eventually I lost consciousness. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best method of getting to sleep._

Was it during this period that that now infamous tape of you ended up online?

_Yeah. I was pretty fucked up at that point, more so after. I only remember tiny details of that actual night. I have a vague recollection of meeting him at the club, and I think remember hailing a taxi with him. It’s hard to know for sure because often I’ll see photographs of something and then convince myself that I remember it. Apart from that though, everything’s a blur. The next morning, I woke up back at my own flat and I called my manager, 'How bad was it?' I asked him and he told me 'It's bad. Look online.” So I looked online and I lost my shit. I don’t think I’ve ever been angrier. My manager was still on the line and yet I just didn’t care. I smashed everything I could get my hands on, and did whatever drugs I had in my flat. My manager came round later, which is something he rarely does, and I knew then that I was in deep shit. I remember him slapping me round the face to get me to wake up. I had a photo-shoot that afternoon and getting through it was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. There were reporters everywhere, and they were frenzied; I couldn’t turn left or right without being asked question after question. I lost my temper with them that afternoon; I can’t really remember what he said, or what I said, but I remember my manager being furious. As soon as we were in the taxi, he turned to me and I knew he was at the end of his tether. “You're getting on a plane this instant,” he told me, “you’re going back to the UK and going into rehab immediately.' It was my publicist that eventually brought him round in the end. She said that it was better to lie low, to not give the media any more fuel. Checking into rehab would have only fed the flames. And besides, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for rehab. I had to want to get better. I refused to recognise a problem at that point._

When did your attitude start to change?

_I suppose deep down I always knew I had a problem. I knew that the drugs were responsible for my break up, I knew that they were influencing my behaviour and affecting my body in ways I didn’t want. It was probably only when I overdosed though [in February this year] that I really woke up and smelled the coffee. I had a long look in the mirror that evening, once I was out of hospital, and I didn’t recognise my reflection. I barely weighed more than 8 and a half stone back then (120 pounds or 54 kilograms) and I barely had the strength the stand up. I remember actually that night trying to get out of the bath and having to be helped._

You went to your ex-boyfriend’s that night didn’t you?

_Yeah, and Renly was great with me, really patient, really gentle. He took care of me that evening, and I’ll always owe him big time for that. Really, I shouldn’t have left hospital, but I can be a bit stubborn. I asked him to come get me and so he did. He’s too kind a person to ever refuse._

It seems like you two still have a great relationship. Can you see a reconciliation being on the cards at some point?

_I’d love to be able to say yes to that question, but it’s something that obviously goes two ways and I’ve been led to believe that there’s no chance of any reconciliation. I guess sometimes you only have one chance, and I screwed mine up there a long time ago._

And Taylor?

_We only dated for three weeks. To be honest, we were not a particularly well-functioning couple. We both had very busy schedules and she didn’t approve of my lifestyle. She hated the fact that I smoked and that I drank too much. I think Perez Hilton got it right when he suggested that all we had in common was our long lists of ex-lovers. She’s a lovely girl, but me and Taylor are chalk and cheese. We text occasionally, and she sent me a card recently whilst I was in rehab, but that’s about it._

So what brought on this rehab trip?

_Nothing in particular. I could feel the cravings creeping back though and I thought it was best to nip them in the bud, be proactive about it rather than waiting to fuck up again. I don’t want ever to end up in hospital again like I did in February. Ironically though, despite the fact it almost killed me, that overdose probably saved my life in the long run. It made me see clearly, and taking a break from modelling was probably the best thing for me at that point._

So will you be continuing modelling now that you’re back up on your feet?

_To be honest, I haven’t given it a lot of thought at the moment. I’m going home for Christmas and I’m just going to take it one day at a time for now. I am in talks over a couple of projects though, so hopefully I should be hitting the ground running fairly soon._

XXX

Renly let the magazine fall onto his bed in a flutter of pages. It was the first and only time that he’d ever bought an issue of Baelish Magazine and he couldn’t help but feel a little disorientated to see Loras talking so candidly with anyone but him, to see Loras' private life splashed out across a four page spread. His own name too seemed to glare out at him from the page, and Renly wondered if he ought to feel grateful that Loras had spoken of him so fondly. He had to wonder too if that fondness had been feigned, for despite over a month of no contact, Renly had little doubt that he was still very much in Loras’ bad books.

Sansa squirmed on the bed beside him, tucked under his arm. “I can’t believe Loras would sell out to Baelish like that,” she breathed.

Renly sighed. “I don’t think he did,” he admitted guiltily. “I imagine it’ll have been one of the conditions for them not publishing that list we wrote.”

Sansa gulped. “Of course,” she whispered, tugging anxiously on the long plait over her shoulder. “Has Stannis had any luck with that?”

Renly shrugged, his thoughts elsewhere. “He’s narrowed it down apparently,” he told her blankly. “He promised me he’ll look into it further over Christmas. He’s doing background checks and stuff because he obviously can’t just accuse someone based on their hair colour.”

Sansa nodded. There was a long pause. “Are you okay Renly?”

Renly nodded. “I’m fine,” he traced his own name in the print again. “He’s quite nice about me,” he breathed. “Do you think this means he’d want to see me? He says in the interview that he’s at home now.”

Sansa’s lips pursed. Renly had told her that his visit to Loras in rehab hadn’t been overly successful but she didn’t know exactly what they’d argued over- that would have required him to admit that he and Loras had had sex. All the same though, she seemed quite wary of what Renly had just suggested.

“Maybe you should wait for him to get in touch?” she suggested gently, putting a hand on his arm.

Renly groaned and put his head in his hands, guilt gnawing silently away at him. He hated leaving things like this with Loras; their last argument haunted him and he had somehow to try to make amends.

“No,” he said decisively, rising to his feet and grabbing his car keys off his bedside table. “I really need to see him.”

He ignored Sansa tugging desperately on his sleeve.


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies! Been skiing for a week (in a resort that turned out to have no snow...) It will be a Golden update next but I happened to have this chapter fully written. Hope you enjoy :D

As seemed to be usual when Loras was home, the Highgarden gates were closed. A wooden sign hung from the wrought iron, and although it was too dark to read, Renly imagined that it read that tours of the house and grounds were currently cancelled. Not for the first time, Renly wished that he’d have cause to visit the beautiful house outside of the winter months; it was only half four and yet it was so dark that Renly could barely see more than a few yards in front of him.

He duly rung the intercom though, and a few minutes later, he was relieved to see the light from a torch winding its way up the distant path, accompanied by the satisfying crunch of heavy boots on gravel. A shout soon followed and Renly reluctantly climbed out of his car to engage in a conversation that he already knew would probably be unpleasant.

Indeed, Renly found he recognised the man wielding the torch. Undeniably ‘country’ in a tweed coat and a flat cap, he made Renly feel far too urban to be within a mile of this grand rural estate, and unusually self-consciously, Renly pulled his jacket around him and wished that he’d gone for tweed too instead of leather. He straightened up though, determined to beat this man at his own game, as he’d done many times before.

“Can I help you sir?” the man called over the gate. His voice was sharp, no nonsense.

“Yes,” Renly told him, shivering slightly in the frosty air. “I’d like to see Loras.”

Leaning over the gate, the man rapped the wooden sign with his knuckles. “I’m afraid Loras is taking no visitors sir. Highgarden is closed.”

Renly stifled a groan. “Look,” he said. “I gather that you’re good at your job, but can’t we cut to the chase. We’ve met several times before now, you _know_ that I actually know Loras.”

The man was unperturbed. “That’s all good and well sir,” he said icily, “but I’m afraid Loras is taking no visitors.”

Renly sighed and prepared to launch into his long speech. “My name’s R-“

“Renly Baratheon, sir,” the man finished his sentence for him, straightening up and peering at him over the wrought iron. “Your name is Renly Baratheon and I am well aware of that.”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that that would get him nowhere. “Well then if you could maybe sort out this gate...?” he prompted.

The man’s expression was hard to read in the dark but his tone said it all. “With all due respect sir, Loras is not taking visitors.”

Renly opened his mouth to protest. “But-“

“Perhaps I should have been clearer. Loras does not wish to see you.”

“But I’m sure, if you asked h-“

Once more, he was cut off. “ _Sir_ ,” the man’s voice was raised now. “Yours is the only name that I’ve specifically been told Loras does not want to see.”

Renly flinched as if the man had slapped him. “Right,” he said sharply. “I see.” He paused awkwardly, feeling his cheeks flush red with humiliation. He’d been prepared for a fight, but he hadn’t in his worst nightmares imagined that Loras might have given specific instructions that he wasn’t to be let in. It damn near broke his heart, and if crawling away and dying in a nearby ditch had been an option, Renly might have took it.

Right now though, he had to compose himself. Taking a large gulp of the cold December air, he straightened to look the man in the eye again, determined to save a little face. “In which case,” he managed, “can you just tell him I called by.”

“Of course sir.” Once more, the impeccable politeness was back, but it was a cold faraway politeness that offered Renly no comfort.

Indeed, it was with tears in his eyes and a heaviness in his heart that Renly climbed back into his car and made his way back down the drive.

 

* * *

 

 

Alone in his car with nobody to see him, Renly sobbed most of the way down the motorway. He even sobbed over the Dartford crossing, alternating between wiping his eyes on his sleeve and actually looking at the road ahead. His cheeks still burned with the humiliation of it all, with the knowledge that all of Loras’ family would know by now that he’d attempted to visit and had been turned away at the gate, but it wasn’t that which tortured him. It was the sheer knowledge that Loras didn’t want to see him which was doing that. That knowledge had ripped a hole in his chest like a particularly blunt knife.

He was pulling into his road when he realised that going home was the last thing he wanted to do, that retreating back into the house that he’d shared the top half of with Loras was made him recoil. He knew he’d spend the whole night thinking about him, dwelling on memories that were half sweet and half terribly bitter.

It was with a sudden determination that he went round the block and headed back in the opposite direction. Ten minutes later, he found himself parked in Kings Cross Station. Aside from Loras, there was only one person who he could contemplate seeing right now.

 

* * *

 

 

It was past midnight by the time that the train rolled into Edinburgh station, and almost quarter to one by the time that Renly had convinced the porters to both let him into the university accommodation without an access card and provide him with a room number.

Satin looked more than a little bemused when he opened his door. In nothing more than his pyjama bottoms, he’d evidently been in bed when Renly had knocked. He blinked when he saw Renly, cocking his head to the side with an amused sort of bewilderment.

“Renly,” he laughed, shivering slightly in the cold. “What’s wrong?”

Renly groaned, putting his head in his hands and leaning one-handed against the doorframe. “Why do you assume something’s wrong?” he asked.

Satin raised an eyebrow. “Well is it?”

“Well yes,” Renly had to admit. “But that’s beside the point.”

Satin sighed heavily, arms crossed across his bare chest. “What have you and Loras fallen out over now then?”

It was Renly’s turn to blink and he groaned again, annoyed by how well Satin knew him. “Have I ever mentioned that I hate you, Satin?” he asked wearily, running a hand through his hair. He didn't like to think that he was quite _that_ predictable. 

Satin just laughed though, a rogue curl falling over his eyes that reminded Renly painfully of Loras. “Come in then,” he said, taking Renly’s wrist. “Come and tell me all about it.”

A few minutes later, they were both squeezed into Satin’s single bed, huddled under the covers with Satin’s hot water bottle between them as Renly went through each and every mistake that he’d made in the last few months. And this time, unlike how he’d done with Sansa, he didn’t leave out any details. It was the honest truth and the whole truth that he told to Satin, and the more that he told, the more ashamed he felt. Somehow, admitting it all out loud seemed to make it all the more real.

Satin for his part listened silently, the lamp on the bedside table illuminating only half of his face. It was hard to tell in that dim light, but Renly thought he merely looked thoughtful, and that expression didn’t change even as Renly told him about the hurtful list that Sansa and Jaime had made; the sex he and Loras had had afterwards, equal parts glorious and awkward; that terrible morning which had followed; and of course, the inexcusable way he’d all but ripped the last tatters of Loras’ pride apart the last time he’d seen him, letting him convince himself that it had been solely out of pity that Renly had slept with him. All in all, it was a sorry tale, and one that Renly knew reflected him in the worst possible light.

Indeed, Renly was almost cowering in shame under the duvet by the time he’d come to the end, unable to look Satin in the face without cringing.

“So you see,” he whispered, once it was all shamefully out in the open. “I’ve really fucked it up.”

Satin merely took a deep breath, wrapping the covers more tightly around his shoulders. “Mmm,” he murmured quietly. “It sounds very much like you have.”

Renly winced, not sure whether he’d have preferred it if Satin had lied to him. “And I could probably live with myself if all I’d done was made him hate me,” he added desperately. “But I haven’t just done that. I’ve made him doubt everything we ever had together. Everything on that list was true I suppose, but they were little things- things I found mildly irritating that I occasionally whined about- but now they’ve been blown massively out of proportion. I’ve made Loras doubt the most obvious things, like whether I found him attractive naked for goodness sake, or whether I actually ever enjoyed sleeping with him.” There had been other things too on that list which had been insulting- Loras’ intelligence, or his lack of education rather, and his tendency to be aggressive, but it was those two that stuck in Renly’s conscience. He still remembered the humiliation on Loras’ face as he’d admitted to Renly what that New York DJ had said about him to the tabloids, how he’d been deemed ‘vanilla’ and a disappointment without his clothes on. Renly had reassured him that night, and yet those were criticisms that he’d then repeated. He didn't like to think how painful it must have been for Loras to read those particular entries on the list.

Satin had been silent up for the last few minutes but now he sighed, raising his face to Renly’s. “I won’t lie,” he admitted. “In my experience, if you want to hit a man where it really hurts, telling him he’s not very good in bed is definitely a good way to go about it.” He ran a hand through his curls, flicking them out of his eyes. “And I always wondered whether Loras was already a bit sensitive about that sort of thing.”

Renly frowned. “Really? But we’ve never even spoken about me and Loras’ sex life.”

Satin shrugged, stretching out slightly next to Renly. “Well he always hated me so much,” he explained, “and I always wondered if that was why. Some of the things he’d say to me… Well he’d often imply that you were only with me because I had so much practice getting men off. It would sort have made sense to me that he was insecure himself- bullies often tend to be. That’s why so many homophobic people turn out to be secretly gay I guess.”

Renly sighed. He supposed that was definitely part of the reason that Loras hated Satin so much. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess you only met him this past year. That whole business with that online video destroyed his confidence. But when we were together, he never seemed to be particularly insecure.” He paused awkwardly though as he said that, for on reflection, he did remember Loras asking him tentatively one evening if he was all right in bed. He wondered if Satin was right: if Loras had always had a seed of doubt in his mind regarding how good he was in bed. It was a thought that made Renly feel terribly guilty; he wondered if he ought to have been more supportive when they were together, more complimentary.

Satin nodded though. “It’s really hard to know, I guess, what people are actually insecure about.”

Renly agreed wearily with a jerk of his head. “Well anyway,” he breathed. “This argument is pointless. Regardless of what he was before, he’s certainly insecure now.” He sighed. “So what do I do, Satin?”

“Well what can you do?” Satin said quietly. “He’s decided he doesn’t want to see you right? That puts the ball very much in his court.”

“Well yeah. But maybe I should try ag-“

The look on Satin’s face cut him off. “ _Renly,_ ” he said firmly. “Loras has decided to finally try to move on from you and you think forcing him to see you is the best course of action? Surely not?”

Renly sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Well no,” he admitted. “Not when you put it like that… But I just can’t deal with him hating me.”

“Well yeah,” Satin said gently, eyes meeting Renly’s in the dim lamplight. “Because you’re in love with him.”

Renly groaned. He didn’t even bother to deny it.

Satin wrapped an arm around him; it was the first proper contact they’d had all evening. “Look, Renly,” he said firmly. “You have two choices here. Either you let Loras try and move on with his life.” He paused contemplatively. “Or you chase after him, admit you love him and date him again. I dare say he’ll forgive you pretty quickly in scenario number two.”

Renly closed his eyes; he didn’t want to admit how illogically tempting the second scenario sounded to him right now. “We’d be a disaster, Satin,” he admitted quietly though. “Especially now. He’d probably be too terrified to ever let me sleep with him again.”

Satin squeezed his hand rather sympathetically. “Then it’s option one,” he prompted gently, “let him move on with his life.” He sighed deeply, making his curls flutter. “It’s probably for the best that he’s angry at you anyway. It’ll give him something else to channel his emotion into.”

Renly shifted to rest his head against his shoulder, inhaling the smell of him. Inexplicably, he found it more than a little reassuring, despite the fact that at a whole four and a half years older than him, he should have been the older and wiser one out of the two of them. It was an emotion that he’d strangely never got from Loras, Renly thought. He’d found the smell of Loras intoxicating, dangerous almost, but he’d never felt particularly safe with Loras. Loras had been too much of a loose cannon, too much like a bomb waiting to go off. He’d been a nightmare to deal with and yet the thought of not seeing him anymore made Renly’s stomach twist painfully as if someone was wringing it out.

“Yeah,” he whispered into Satin’s neck. “I know that letting him ignore me is the logical decision, but I simply can’t cope with that.”

Satin sighed heavily again. “Then I have nothing more to say to you.” There was a long pause whilst Renly buried his head in his chest and then Satin nuzzled the top of his head. “You want me to help you in other ways then?” he offered.

Renly forced a laugh. “No boyfriend then?” he asked, looking up at him. “Or Girlfriend?”

“Nah,” Satin sighed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Just a very confused guy who won’t admit that he wants to fuck me like crazy.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Is his name Jon by any chance?”

Satin gave a small smile. “Possibly,” he admitted. “And screwing you will most likely make him very jealous.” He leant in closer, closing the gap between them. “So if we could keep the noise level up, hopefully the insufferable busybody next door will make sure my hot sex session gets back to him.”

Renly grinned and pushed him back over onto his back. Slowly, he ran his hand up Satin’s pyjama-clad thigh before sliding his fingers across the wide expanse of skin that he found at his navel. He slid the waistband of his pyjama bottoms down leisurely, his fingers dipping lower until they skimmed over the dusky trail of half-curls that led to Satin’s groin. He hadn’t been in the mood for finding someone to hook up with during the past month, and as such, he couldn’t help but think of the last person he’d done this with. Their bodies weren’t dissimilar. Satin was less skinny than Loras; there was no hint of ribs and no jagged hipbones, but he had the same rough body shape, the same silky smooth skin as Loras did. If Loras put on a stone or two, they might have been identical to the touch.

“You’re thinking about him aren’t you?” Satin murmured, his voice half a purr and his eyes half closed. Even the expression was a little Loras-like.

“Well you’re quite similar down here,” Renly whispered defensively against his stomach.

Only Satin could have laughed at that. “Is it the curls?” he chuckled.

“Not particularly,” Renly told him honestly. “He had his curls here the last time we slept together but he used to usually take most of it off when we were together.” He kissed a path down to the silky black curls that surrounded Satin’s cock. “Rather like you did actually.” He forced a chuckle. ”Apparently men start letting themselves go after they split up with me.”

Satin’s chest vibrated with soft laughter. “Nothing to do with splitting from you, Renly,” he protested, a hand slapping the back of Renly’s head affectionately. “This is definitely a perk of not working anymore.”

Renly smiled even though Satin couldn’t see. “I’m pulling your leg,” he chastised. “I know it wasn’t for my benefit.”

“Were Loras’ habits for your benefit?”

Renly rested his cheek again against Satin’s stomach. “Don’t really know,” he mumbled into Satin’s hip, hand reaching down to idly play with one of Satin’s curls. “Never really thought about it too much if I’m honest. I’ve never really given a damn whether a guy’s got hair down here or not.” Presumably though, thinking about it now, Loras’ habits had indeed possibly been for his benefit, seeing as there’d definitely been very little grooming going on the last time they’d had sex. It was either that or the fact that Loras simply didn’t have the energy to bother maintaining the same standards nowadays. And that was certainly possible, Renly mused. He was well aware that much of Loras’ appearance had been dictated by what particular designer he was shooting for that week. They’d controlled his hair colour, his hair length, whether he had stubble or not. Sometimes, if they’d been going for the androgynous edgy look, they’d shaved his chest too, or rather, they’d shaved the little amount of downy hair that he’d had there. The amount of body hair that Loras had used to have had changed from week to week and Renly had never really cared either way. He supposed though that it made sense that Loras might be enjoying being able to do fuck all with it nowadays.

It was only then that he realised once more that he was dwelling on Loras whilst playing with one of the springy curls that surrounded the base of Satin’s cock, and he tried to banish Loras from his thoughts. That in mind, he slipped his fingers immediately down lower, wrapping them around Satin’s cock and squeezing ever so slightly.

Satin groaned ever so slightly then and Renly duly opened his mouth to murmur something back. Finding that the name on the tip of his tongue was the wrong one though, he laid his cheek back on Satin’s stomach in defeat.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered. “It’s not fair on you.”

Satin raised his head. “What’s not fair on me?” he asked curiously.

Sighing, Renly rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. “Well I’d be thinking of somebody else the whole time. That’s not fair to you. It’s insulting and it’s rude.”

Satin merely laughed though. “Renly,” he chuckled. “You think that I’m not used to having sex with people who are thinking of somebody else?” He smiled then, eyes twinkling. “You know, if I had a pound for every time a client whispered somebody else’s name into my mouth as they orgasmed… well I’d be a millionaire, Renly.”

Renly wasn’t convinced though. “I suppose,” he admitted. “But I’m not your client, Satin. I’m your ex-boyfriend. It’s not acceptable coming from me.”

Satin just smiled at him, and Renly had to wonder sadly why it wasn’t the calm and collected boy beside him that he’d decided to fall in love with. His life would have been so much easier.

 

* * *

 

 

“I refuse to believe Loras is _actually_ bad in bed,” Satin commented idly the next morning, both of them still stretched out in bed despite the fact that it was almost midday.

Renly sighed, tearing his eyes away from the window where he’d been watching the Scotland rain pour down. “Why not?”

“Because he’s not the type,” Satin said slowly, sitting up in bed and bunching the covers around his shoulders. “He’s got a temper on him. Surely you at least had pretty decent make up sex after you argued and emotions were running high?”

Renly shrugged, sitting up and joining him. “Not really,” he admitted. “We never really argued until the very end, and then we never made up.” He supposed that there had been that rather bitter sex session they’d had after Loras had come in high, and whilst he supposed there must have been potential there for some hot angry sex, if he remembered correctly, all he’d succeeded in doing was hurting Loras. Indeed, if he closed his eyes, he could still see it now: Loras red-faced and furious, his limp cock between his legs as he struggled to cover himself up with the sheets. It made Renly feel guilty just thinking about it.

Satin merely looked surprised though; he didn’t seem to notice the guilt painting itself across Renly’s face. “Seriously? You made it seven months with Loras without ever arguing?”

“Well yeah,” Renly laughed. “Well six months really. During the seventh we didn’t do anything _except_ argue.”

Satin rested his cheek against Renly’s shoulder. “You know, Renly, I don’t really see why you guys don’t make another go of it. Maybe not right now, but at some point, when he’s a little more together. You’re clearly both miserable apart.”

Renly hated hearing that come out of Satin’s mouth. Things always sounded more reasonably when Satin was the one who voiced them. “Because I don’t trust him,” Renly said simply.

Satin frowned. “You don’t think he’ll stay clean?”

Renly sighed, closing his eyes. “I _hope_ he’ll stay clean, but I can’t ever _know_ that he will, and I don’t think I could cope if he relapsed.” He paused. “And anyway, I think there’ll always be too much bitterness there, regardless of how much time passes. He walked out on me and I didn’t even call him to try and get him to come back. And now that he’s seen that list… well, I don’t know Satin? Do _you_ think it could ever work?”

Satin shrugged, non-committal. “I’m not saying it would be easy.”

“It wouldn’t be easy,” Renly agreed. “And if it didn’t work out, it would screw both of us up. And anyway, he needs to learn to base his self-esteem on something else than my opinion.”

“That’s true,” Satin mused. “So returning to our discussion yesterday, maybe this is for the best. He’ll learn to cope by himself. Hating you is probably very cathartic for him.”

Renly nodded reluctantly. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He felt like shit over the whole situation and he was tired of that. Part of him was wishing that he’d taken Satin up on his offer last night and that he’d fucked them both senseless. It was almost ludicrous that he’d let the memory of someone who didn’t want to see him anymore get in the way of that.

“You know Satin,” he murmured after a while though, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. “Loras isn’t actually bad in bed. He’s just a little monotonous, a little dull. I feel really guilty that he thinks that he’s _bad_ , like ‘so bad that I’d only sleep with him out of pity’ bad.”

Satin sighed at that, leaning back against the headboard, the now very lukewarm hot-water bottle clutched to his chest. “You really surprised me actually,” he admitted quietly. “In spite of Loras’ hatred of me and all it implied, I always assumed that you and Loras had a really great sex life.”

“Because of his temper?”

“Not just because of that,” Satin laughed. “It’s the way you guys look at each other, like there’s nobody else in the world except the two of you. I kind of just assumed the sex was to die for. You know, that even if I was maybe technically better at some stuff, that the two of you fucked like rabbits all over the place.”

Renly shrugged. “No it wasn’t particularly like that,” he admitted. He wished it had been; he reckoned he and Loras had certainly had the chemistry for that type of sex after all.

Satin gave a small smile. “Well I think you should blame yourself for that.”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Why?” Satin’s words hit a nerve though, regardless of how little he wanted to admit it.

“Because I know you’re good in bed,” Satin pointed out gently. “And as the older and presumably wiser participant, you should have made sure that you guys had a good time.” He paused. “And Loras…. Well you tell me he was unimaginative, that he was repetitive, well that’s so easy to fix. Watch porn together, get inspired, go out and buy one of those stupid sets of dice from Ann Summers with body parts and actions on them. Or just put him where you want him, pant in his ear that he looks hot like that. Loras should have been easy for you.”

Renly couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed, and yet he couldn’t help but feel defensive too. “And why’s that?” he threw back. “Why should Loras have been _easy_ for me?

“Because he’s an easy combination,” Satin said simply, meeting Renly’s eye. “He’s clearly the type to enjoy flattery, and he absolutely adores you. Put those two traits together and it should have been a piece of cake to mould what you liked out of him through positive reinforcement.”

Renly did roll his eyes. “Positive reinforcement?” he clarified. That to him sounded like some sort of way to train a dog, not a person. He reckoned that this was the escort in Satin talking, the part of him that reduced sex down to something that could be manipulated and controlled as he pleased.

“Yep, positive reinforcement,” Satin repeated, and without warning, he pushed Renly’s head down, his spare hand slipping his pyjama bottoms down simultaneously. The next thing Renly knew, Satin’s cock was next to his mouth and Satin was putting a little pressure on the back of his head. Taking the hint, Renly parted his lips, feeling Satin go from mostly soft to fully hard as he worked his mouth slowly down the shaft. His nose was almost pressed into Satin’s curls when he felt Satin arch underneath him.

“God,” he groaned. “That feels good.”

Coming briefly back up for air, Renly repeated the motion, this time relaxing enough to feel Satin’s cock hit the back of his throat.

“And there you go,” Satin laughed suddenly, tugging gently on his hair and almost making Renly jump. He waited until Renly had sat back up and wiped his mouth before continuing. “I tell you I like something, and you immediately do your best to repeat what you just did. It’s human nature to like being told you’re good at something, and I imagine that that instinct will have been incredibly strong with Loras.” He paused, eyes flickering to Renly’s. “In fact, I’d go as far to say that I bet praise from you would have got him almost as high as that coke of his. All you needed to do was give him cues.”

Renly opened his mouth to protest. “But what if he’s not doing wh-”

Satin raised a hand to silence him. “And if he’s not doing what you want, then you direct him. It works exactly the same. You tell him that you’d really like it if he did so and so, and he’ll immediately try to do so and so. You then reward him when he gets it right and you’re sorted. You feel satisfied and he feels all warm and fuzzy for having done the satisfying so well.”

Renly snorted. “You make it sound so easy.”

Satin laughed. “Because it _is_ easy, Renly.”

Renly closed his eyes. “I guess I was just so wary of hurting his feelings by suggesting I didn’t particularly think what we were doing was great.” That was putting it mildly, he thought. He’d tiptoed around Loras’ pride as if he’d been tiptoeing around an active volcano.

Satin shrugged. “Which is why you never _tell_ anyone you don’t like something. Communication isn’t just about actual talking, you know. There’s tons of others ways to communicate. And nobody ever needs to know that they’ve been doing something badly or wrong; they just need to know that you _prefer_ the new way you’ve shown them you like it.”

Reluctantly, Renly nodded. Guiltily, he remembered telling Loras once that he was selfish in bed, for the crime of never reciprocating oral sex. He supposed it would have been easier for both of them if he’d simply told Loras that he’d find it really hot if it were to be the other way round for a change.

“Yeah,” he admitted slowly. “I really messed up there.”

“Yeah,” Satin murmured. “You did.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He guessed he needed someone to give him the brutally honest truth, and Satin filled that role very well. Somehow, though, he reckoned it was far too little too late for him and Loras.


	61. Chapter 61

Satin’s advice not to try to see Loras again stuck with Renly for a grand total of eight days before he caved. It was the day before Christmas Eve and yet he found himself on the motorway to Kent once more, his phone switched off so that no guilt-inducing texts from Sansa or Satin would be able to reach him. He knew that he was being ridiculous, that the sensible thing would be to stay home- especially so close to Christmas, but he couldn’t help himself. Loras’ absence tortured him.

As he’d found the last time he’d visited though, the gate to Highgarden was shut once more, and the same man in tweed was patrolling it, prowling around it like the Nazi in disguise that Renly reckoned he was.

Their exchange was shorter this time, but the outcome exactly the same. Loras’ phone had yielded nothing but voicemail and even after using every persuasive trick in the book, Renly was no closer to convincing the man to open the gate and let him drive up to the house.

This time, however, Renly refused to give up so easily. “Well,” he told the man smugly through the wound-down window. “I’m going to sit here then until you let me through.”

The man seemed unfazed. “In which case I will have to phone the police,” he replied, equally as coolly.

That response made Renly smile though; there was nothing he liked better than hearing ignorant people attempt to use their knowledge of the law against him. “On what grounds?” he asked sweetly.

“ _Trespass_.”

Renly shrugged mildly. “I don’t believe Highgarden owns the road, sir. And there’s no yellow markings. I can sit here legally as long as I want.” And be your personal poltergeist, he added viciously in his head.

The man almost snarled. “In which case, as you were sir. You can sit there all night but this gate shall remain closed to you.”

The evening was freezing, and the heating quite poor when the car wasn’t moving, but Renly waited several hours. It crossed his mind many times that the gamekeeper might hold his nerve longer than he did, but he tried not to dwell on it too much. He didn’t need the gamekeeper to cave; he needed him to phone the house and make Loras feel guilty enough to come out and speak to him. It was a little sly of him, and most unfair to Loras, but Renly’s desperation was stronger. He _had_ to see Loras, even if it killed him.

It was almost eleven o’clock before Renly saw the man pull out his walkie-talkie, convinced now apparently that Renly wasn’t bluffing about sitting there all night, and Renly felt a flicker of hope to see the man talk into the device and get more and more agitated.

Renly was half dozing though when there was eventually a sharp rapping on his window. Starting in the driver’s seat, he opened his eyes with a snap. It was the man in tweed again. His teeth were gritted and Renly saw with delight that the gate was open. It was his ticket to Loras and Renly put his foot on the gas before anybody could change their mind.

He was met at the end of the drive by a small girl in a long coat. He gulped when he realised it was Margaery. Her curls were piled into a woolly hat and even in the dim glare of his headlights, he could see the fury on her face. It was the type of fury that Renly dreaded, not the blinding rage that Robert was prone to that would eventually blow itself out, but a quiet rage, one that simmered dangerously under her skin.

It was a little fearfully that Renly got out of the car. He knew full well that he deserved her anger. Margaery loved Loras fiercely and she would defend him fiercely too.

“I admire your stubbornness if nothing else,” she said dryly. Her eyes were almost yellow in the moonlight, feline, and Renly was reminded of a lioness. He imagined Margaery might chew him up and spit him back out like one too.

He met her eyes though, and forced a tight laugh. “I have to see him,” he breathed. It was an understatement. Renly felt like his chest might explode with guilt if he didn’t see him.

“No you don’t.” She folded her arms, eyes narrowed. “He’s not a toy. You can’t pick him up and shag him whenever you fancy it and then expect him to still want to bloody see you.”

Renly flinched. That had stung. “I know that,” he said quietly. He wanted desperately to point out that it hadn’t been a quick sordid romp that he’d had with Loras, but that it had been intimate, that they’d had their hands in each other’s hair and that it had been gentle, loving. He didn’t think Margaery would understand though.

“That was a mistake,” he confessed, “a terrible one. I’m trying to fix it.”

Margaery bit her bottom lip like Loras often did. “Well some things can’t be fixed,” she hissed, pacing erratically. “You’ve messed with him one time too many. Between that list of yours and sleeping with him, you’ve stamped on his confidence so much that it’ll be a miracle if he ever goes on another date again.” She met his eye and the fury was clearly beginning to boil over. “You’ve turned him into a paranoid insecure wreck, Renly.”

That damn near broke Renly’s heart and yet he was about to argue when a sight caught his eye. In her pacing, Margaery had led him alongside the family house. The curtains were only half drawn and Renly could see right in through the window. It was the living room that he was staring into and there was a large Christmas tree inside by the window, hung heavy with decorations. It was the sort of tree that Cersei would have hated. Instead of the elegant matching sets she favoured, each decoration on this tree was unique. There were baubles and candy canes, birds and roses, fabric angels that had evidently been made by children at school. It was a family tree; each decoration held a story and Renly gulped, thinking of the artificial tree that they’d had each Christmas, with its dull white lights, its silver tinsel and its silver and gold decorations, all of which Stannis had dutifully dragged out of the attic each December. There had been family decorations; he was sure of it, but Stannis and Robert had always preferred, perhaps understandably, to not unpack them from the dusty box that bore their mother’s initials. The memories were apparently too painful.

Looking past this tree’s branches, Renly sighed to see the rest of Margaery’s family. Partly obscured by foliage, Renly could make out Loras’ two brothers sat furthest from him, Garlan’s hand in a bowl of sweets and the other’s nose in a book. His eyes moving across the room, Renly’s heart then skipped a beat to spot Loras. He was sat on the sofa with his mother, clad in a woolly jumper and with a very fat dog on his lap. He had his hand on its head and he must have known where his sister had gone, for he was fidgety, his fingers scratching the dog’s ears erratically as if he were trying to draw comfort from it.

“Renly!” Margaery’s voice broke him from his reveries. She’d probably been talking to him for the last few minutes but it had taken her raising her voice to get his attention.

Her voice must have carried through the glass, for Loras had spun round too. For a moment, his eyes met Renly’s and Renly’s heart broke in two once more to see the expression on his face. He evidently didn’t know what to think, or what to do. For a split second he looked about to rise to his feet and then he stilled, turning his face away and shifting almost imperceptibly closer to his mother.

“ _Renly,_ ” Margaery’s voice was softer this time. Renly got the feeling that she felt sorry for him.

Renly merely sniffed. It was over now; Loras clearly didn’t want to see him. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “I get the point. I’ll be on my way.”

Surprisingly perhaps, Margaery had the grace to walk him back to his car.

 

* * *

 

 

Back home, Renly wondered if he ought to have tried harder, and yet a small part of his conscience- the part controlled by Satin and Sansa, told him that he’d done the right thing by deciding to leave Loras in peace. All the same, that evening, he swiped angrily through men’s profiles on Tinder, desperate for someone to take his frustration out on, someone to fuck so hard that he forgot all about Loras.

He wasn’t in the mood for being fussy, and for once he matched with someone who had decided that his chest was a decent enough profile picture. He had a great body though, adorned with several tattoos that the tasteful part of Renly baulked at, but which the rest of him had to admit highlighted his physique rather well. For all Renly knew, he could have been the biggest bastard to walk the earth but Renly was reassured by the description in his profile. Apparently, this guy loved large cocks and knew how to please them. It was crude and vulgar, and yet it was just what Renly reckoned he needed, for crude and vulgar were as different from Loras as chalk was from cheese.

It was only later, after Renly had kicked the guy out for the night, that he realised that _different_ might not be what he was looking for. The guy had been good; his profile on Tinder had been surprisingly accurate, and yet it hadn’t eased Renly’s pain even a little. He ached for Loras, with every fibre of his being. He ached for his forgiveness, but also for his company, and the sound of his laughter. Perhaps it was _similar_ that Renly needed, someone who’d give him what Loras offered him but without the tangled mess that came with him. It was a thought that made his heart sink but he wondered perhaps if he needed to start dating again, _properly_ , rather than just flitting from one night stand to another whilst thinking about somebody else.

After Christmas, Renly reckoned he’d give it a go. Anything, he thought, would be better than how wretched he felt this evening.

 

* * *

 

 

“So this is our culprit,” Stannis announced once the plates had been scraped clean of Selyse’s dry turkey and soggy vegetables and they’d dutifully pulled the crackers. He laid a photo on the table. It was a small passport sized photo of a woman with red hair, very beautiful but who Renly didn’t recognise.

“Well who is she?” he asked, impatient. Usually, he avoided both his brothers like the plague on Christmas day, but this year, he’d grudgingly accepted Stannis’ invitation, too desperate to know what Stannis had uncovered to wait until he returned to work. He wasn’t sure now if it was worth it. Throughout the entire meal he’d found himself thinking of the Tyrells, of their warm living room with the quirky tree and the bowls of sweets. Had he still been with Loras, Renly reckoned he'd have spent Christmas day with them. There would have been piles and piles of food, Loras' mother would have baked a cake, and Renly would have been able to hold Loras' hand under the table and see him smile. Afterwards, he'd have probably stayed the night too, in Loras' childhood room, where Loras would have presumably put a double bed, or else they'd have curled up in Loras' single like teenagers who were too horny for their own good. Renly reckoned he'd have been quite happy with either option.  

At Stannis’ on the other hand, one could be forgiven for assuming that it was still 1940 and there was still a war still on. Food was all but rationed in this house, and Christmas cheer was as scarce as the hairs on Stannis’ bald shiny head. There would certainly be no bed-sharing of any kind, probably not even on the part of Stannis and Selyse. 

Her name is Rosalind,” Stannis explained dryly, sipping a glass of port- the only alcohol he indulged in all year. “Though it appears everybody calls her _Ros_.” He said the name curtly, his voice dripping with distaste. He loathed nicknames; he always had done. Anyone who called him ‘Stan’ had always been met with a cold stare and no answer. Renly dreaded to think what his brother would make of the constant way that Loras shortened his name. ‘Ren’ would be considered sacrilege to Stannis: it wasn’t the name that their mother had given him and therefore it was unacceptable.

“Ok,” Renly said. “ _Ros_ … Well who is she?”

“At the moment, she’s an employee of ours in Marketing. Previously, she worked at a magazine as a journalist. She still works freelance for them.”

“Baelish magazine,” Renly filled in for him, raising an eyebrow and helping himself to a rather anaemic mince pie off the plate that Selyse was now passing round. “When did she join us?”

Stannis waved away the offer of his mince pie, for indeed there was only one each. “In January of 2014,” he told him. “A few months after you started dating that actor.”

“Model,” Renly corrected despite himself. “He’s a model.”

“Model then,” Stannis repeated through pursed lips. “I imagine that she applied for the job with the aim of collecting information on you.” He paused, the vein in his temple throbbing- a sign that he was thinking. “She works on the second floor with Jeyne Poole, who I understand to be a good friend of Miss Stark’s and much of a gossip.”

Renly groaned. He supposed that explained a lot. Throughout his relationship with Loras, there had always been articles popping up about them, from sources who alleged to be close to him. He’d never really given it much thought. “Well can we fire her then?” he asked. This was the girl responsible for ruining the scrap of decent relationship that he had left with Loras; she’d driven a wedge between them that was larger than a bloody mountain. Renly wasn’t usually a malicious man, but he would look forward to watching this particular girl clear out her desk and be thrown to the kerb.

Stannis’ jaw set. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “We can’t fire her.”

Renly almost stood up, pissed off. “Why on earth not?”

“Because technically,” Stannis informed him, eyes steely, “no crime has been committed. It is _unethical_ , I grant you, but providing personal information to magazines is not against the law, and neither is taking a discarded piece of paper out of a waste-paper bin, despite what you evidently think.”

Renly sighed. Anyone aside from Stannis would have fired the bitch, he reckoned, but Stannis worked by the rule book and if no rules had been broken, nothing could be done.

“So that’s that?” he asked. “She stays and continues spying on me?”

Stannis pursed his lips again. “I can look into making her redundant for you. But as no crime has been committed, it will be difficult to do any more.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t bloody matter anymore does it? It’s just the principle of it.” He folded his arms angrily before ruining the effect when he decided he wanted to eat Stannis’ mince pie on his behalf. “I’ll just tell Sansa to zip her stupid mouth to Jeyne.” He said it with a little bitterness but he knew that neither of the girls had likely meant any harm. They just did what gossips did and took delight in sharing stories. Hell, he often did exactly the same. It had only been the fact he’d been dating a supermodel that had thrown a spanner in the works. Had Loras been an ordinary guy who worked in some nondescript job, nobody would have given a fig about each and every fight they had, or if one of them wasn't any good in bed.

Stannis nodded. “Yes, well I’d suggest locking your office from now on perhaps.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I can’t believe it,” Sansa whispered when Renly told her everything Stannis had said. “I know that girl. She’s nice. I can’t believe she’s working for that slimy man.”

Renly shrugged. He could believe it quite well himself. After all, Petyr Baelish was apparently very generous to his friends, as he’d made a point of telling him several times after he’d split up with Loras. He imagined that Baelish was probably a decent man to work for, as long as you were on the right side of him.

“Well if you could stop gossiping to Jeyne at the water fountain in your breaks, I would be very grateful,” he told her. He then paused, head in his hands, guilt gnawing once more at him. “Not that it really matters anymore seeing as Loras is never going to speak to me ever again.”

Sansa sighed. “Renly,” she chastised, voice gentle though as if she knew the subject was painfully sore. “We’ve been through this. It’s for the best that you don’t see each other anymore. It’s best for him and it’s best for you.”

Renly didn’t agree but he didn’t dare argue. “Whatever,” he mumbled. He picked up his pen to start working and then decided he couldn’t be bothered. “How’s it going on Tinder?” he asked instead. “Have you found any men for me that look like they might be into dating?” Determined to at least _try_ to be pro-active about the whole situation with Loras, that was a job he’d given Sansa this morning: to find him a man to go on a date with who wasn’t a massive creep or repulsive to look at, and who preferably didn’t remind him painfully of Loras as Satin was inclined to do.

“Yes,” she smiled, wheeling her chair closer. “A couple. Though I really don’t see why you couldn’t find someone the good old fashioned way.”

“Because I don’t have time,” Renly sighed. “You try searching for eligible gay men in a city this big when you have a full time job.” Truthfully, he didn’t think it was that at all. It was that his heart wasn’t truly in the search; his heart was set after all on someone who was entirely unsuitable for him, someone who’d turn his life upside down again. It was only the fact that he'd made a New Year's resolution about trying to get over Loras that was prompting his search.

Sansa didn’t argue; she just pursed her lips, flicking her red hair in a way that perfectly conveyed her distaste for her.

“Well show me my suitors then,” Renly sighed, beckoning her over. He didn’t like arguing with Sansa. They’d been friends for years, since she was out of high school in fact and since Robert had given her to Renly as his secretary- a job that she'd been- and still was, completely unqualified for. Aside from when she’d fancied him of course, this was the first time that Renly remembered them having such differing opinions. He sorely wished that she’d see his side; that she’d understand how he couldn’t turn off his desperation to see Loras, regardless of how illogical it was.

“Well here’s guy number one,” Sansa smiled, her voice resembling a game show host a little. “His name is Eric. He’s cute. Works in finance. Really nice curly h-“

“No curls,” Renly snapped. “Definitely no curls.” This was an obsession, he reckoned, that had started with Loras. It was an obsession that had to end now.

Sansa raised an eyebrow. “But he doesn’t look anything like Loras,” she argued. “That’s the only similarity. He’s much shorter than Loras and _much_ less attractive.”

“You’re really selling him to me,” Renly muttered.

Sansa rolled his eyes. “Well the other guy then. This guy seems almost perfect if you don’t mind red hair. He’s tall, educated at Cambridge like you, after a relationship, lives in south London. He even apparently was in politics for a while.” She smiled, laying a hand on his arm and meeting his eye. “He sounds really really nice, like a proper gentleman.” There was a veiled plea in her words, a plea for him to agree to meet up with this guy and at least make an attempt at forgetting the mess of things he’d made with Loras.

She’d painted this new guy as all but perfect and Renly really wanted to suggest that she date the guy herself, instead of the beast of a man that she called a boyfriend. He bit the retort back though and merely sighed heavily. “What’s the catch?” he asked. "If he's Mr. Perfect, he wouldn't be looking for a date on Tinder."

"Well _you're_ on Tinder," she pointed out. "And you don't have a catch."

"I have a catch," Renly pointed out dryly. "It's that I'm in still love with my train wreck of an ex-boyfriend and that I can't seem to fancy anyone but drug addicts and hookers." He looked at her again. "Now tell me, what's wrong with this guy?"

“Well he’s a bit older than you….”

Renly narrowed his eyes, sceptical. “How _much_ older?”

“Thirty nine.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “ _Thirty nine?_ ” he repeated. “That’s almost bloody _double_ Loras’ age.”

Sansa pursed her lips. “Double Loras’ age would be forty six, Renly. And anyway, don’t use him as a benchmark. Perhaps it would be nice to date someone a little more well… _mature_ than Loras. He’ll probably be much less of a loose cannon, much more stable. And he’s not exactly that much older than you anyway. You’re turning twenty eight in three weeks; eleven years isn’t the hugest age gap in history.”

She had a point and so Renly grabbed his phone to assess for himself. The guy’s name was Jon, like Sansa’s brother. He seemed decently handsome, in a sort of silver fox way if one went for that, and grudgingly, Renly tapped out a message to him asking if he wanted to go out for dinner or something. It had been almost two months now he’d seen Loras properly and it was time, he guessed, to try to meet new people.


	62. Chapter 62

They were sat at a cosy table for two in London’s most expensive Italian restaurant and yet Renly stifled a yawn. It was his third date with the guy that Tinder had found for him, and whilst on paper, they did appear a decently good match, Renly would have been lying if he said that he enjoyed the long winded and rather tedious stories that Jon was fond of telling him. Most seemed to revolve around a man named Rhaegar, who apparently looked like a god, talked like a god and acted like a god.

“No,” Renly agreed lightly as Jon approached his punchline, “I probably can’t guess what Rhaegar did next.”

“Well…” With a faraway smile, Jon was launching into whatever this Rhaegar had apparently done next. Renly didn’t really listen. It was probably something miraculous, like ending all famine in Africa, or bringing peace on earth to all men. All Renly had to do was nod at regular intervals and comment that Rhaegar sounded like a jolly decent chap every now and again. It was an easy enough job, and it left Renly plenty of time to think about what he wanted to do for his birthday. It was only a few days away now, and for the first time in his life, Renly had dismissed the idea of throwing a big party. Turning twenty-eight after all wasn’t much to celebrate; it was far too close to thirty and being over the hill.

Instead, Renly reckoned that he and Sansa would just go out for a quiet dinner. She’d already made reservations, and Renly was quite looking forward to it. They’d get dinner and maybe have some cocktails, and hopefully, Renly would get very very drunk.

He reckoned he’d know how it would go. Stage one of his drunkenness would be him deciding that he wanted to order every desert on the menu; stage two would be him deciding that phoning Loras was a good idea. Stage three meanwhile would be him actually following through on that idea and getting Loras’ voicemail before Sansa confiscated his phone. The final stage would be him getting so absolutely hammered that he forgot all about Loras and was able to deceive himself into believing that he was still in his early twenties.

Quite honestly, Renly was rather looking forward to it.   
  


* * *

 

 

Indeed, dinner with Sansa turned out to be infinitely more enjoyable than with Jon, Renly found. They’d talked about what they liked and they’d certainly avoided all topics that revolved around perfect demi-gods named Rhaegar. The food had been good, the conversation had flowed without any stilted pauses, and Renly hadn’t actually felt too bad about the fact that he was turning twenty eight.

He _was_ disappointed though when Sansa insisted on going home after desert and rejected outright his offer to buy her cocktails. A night on the tiles was apparently not something she wanted to be a part of. She did insist, however, on coming home with him to have a glass of champagne, something which made little sense to Renly considering her refusal of alcohol moments earlier.

All in all, Renly was a little confused. 

He was less confused when upon entering his living room he was met with what seemed like a thousand people jumping out at him with balloons and party poppers.

“SURPRISE!” they yelled, and as Renly turned, laughing, to Sansa, he saw her cheeks flush bright red. He didn’t have to ask who had provided the spare key to let them all in. He had absolutely no doubt who was responsible for all of this. 

“Sansa,” he grinned, giving the gathered crowd a wave. “I’m turning twenty eight, not thirty!”

“Well you couldn’t _not_ have a party,” she told him with a wide smile. “So I might have invited a few people over for you.”

Renly laughed. He couldn’t say he was displeased, and grinning, he looked around the room. Jaime and Brienne were stood nearest, his arm around her and the both of them waving a bottle of champagne at him. Arya and Gendry were standing behind them in the kitchen doorway, having evidently helped themselves to his fridge on the sly while he was out. Satin had evidently come down from Edinburgh, for he was stood was next to them, accompanied by a guy that Renly vaguely recognised from Sansa’s family photos. He evidently hadn’t succeeded in bringing him round to the idea of dating yet though. Sansa's brother's shoulders were visibly tense, his hand was dangling inches from Satin's but balled into a fist, and Renly reckoned he could have cut the sexual tension between them with a knife.

They were only a mere fraction though of the people that Sansa had invited. Surrounding them was almost everyone that Renly worked with; apparently this had been billed as the party of the year.

“A few people?” he clarified, looking around the room once more and waving enthusiastically. “More like _everyone_.”

“Well yeah,” Sansa smiled. “You see, I invited Jaime and then I had to invite everyone who worked with him, and then that girl who works in photocopying asked if she could come too, and she wanted to bring her boyfriend so then I had to let him come as well…”

Renly was no longer listening to her. Smiling and waving at his guests still, he'd spotted someone who he hadn't noticed in his cursory once-over. His eyes were now on a figure sat at the very back of the room, a figure who was partly obscured by other guests but who clearly had chocolate brown curls and eyes with irises of molten gold. 

“Loras,” he breathed. “What on earth is Loras doing here?”

The joyous expression on Sansa’s face wavered. “Oh yeah,” she said quietly, hushing her voice so that nobody else could hear. “I thought I should invite him. Just to be polite. I wasn’t expecting him to actually come.”

“I wouldn’t have expected him to come either,” Renly whispered back to her. His attention wasn’t on her at all now, and slipping his hand off her arm, he drifted through the crowd of people as if he were floating on a breeze, greetings rolling off his lips to everyone he passed as if by instinct.

“ _Loras,_ ” he called.

Loras looked up; unlike the rest of the guests, he'd obviously remained seated when Renly had come in. He looked out of place amongst the other guests, and Renly reckoned he was probably the only person in London who could wear a corduroy jacket and make it look like the cutting edge of fashion. Even from a few feet off though, the first thing that Renly noticed about him was that he’d certainly put on quite a bit of weight over Christmas. He looked a lot better for it. His face was slightly fuller, his cheeks had dimples again, and Renly reckoned that if he were to undress him, he’d be softer, his hipbones less prominent and his chest a little more cuddly. Absently, Renly wondered if it would be acceptable to hug him now. He wanted to, but he feared it coming off as inappropriate.

Once Loras had stood, he settled for an awkward one-armed hug that was very brief. It felt strange being so close to him, having him stood inches away. He’d been desperate to see him for so long, desperate to speak to him, to apologise and grovel. Surrounded by dozens and dozens of people though, that wasn’t really an option right now. 

It wasn't the moment he'd have chosen and now that they were face to face, Renly didn’t really know what to say. For a moment they just stared at each other, both a little wary.

It was Loras who spoke first. “Hey,” he murmured. “Happy birthday.”

Renly couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face; just the sound of his voice made him feel a little better. “I thought you didn’t want to see me,” he breathed.

Loras shrugged stiffly. “Guess I changed my mind," he mumbled. He picked up a gift bag that he’d put on the floor. “And here, this is for you.” He handed him the bag. “It’s nothing special, just thought I should bring something.”

Renly pulled out a bottle of wine. He smiled to see that it was from Highgarden; apparently the Tyrells grew and bottled their own. He was unsurprised. They seemed the sort of family. They bred racehorses, Loras had played polo and show jumped as a child, they gave tours of their family home; their own vineyard seemed quite expected.

He put his hand on Loras’ arm. “Well I’m so pleased to see you.” The words sounded so banal to Renly’s ears; they hardly summed up the desperation that had all but consumed him over the last few weeks. They were all he could manage though.

Loras seemed to appreciate them regardless. His cheeks were slightly pink though and gave Renly’s shoulder a gentle push. “You’ve got a lot of people here, Ren. We can chat later.”

It was only then that Renly remembered his other guests and he took his hand quickly off Loras’ arm. Glancing around, he saw that most of the many many people in the room were staring at them, no wonder really, considering the fact that Loras was usually more likely to be spotted on a billboard than in somebody’s front room. He wondered if Loras felt out of place here. He imagined that he probably did.

He lost sight of Loras quite quickly after that, swarmed by the thousands of guests that Sansa seemed to have invited. Everyone seemed to want to speak to him, and hand him bottles of champagne, and Renly found he could finally relax a little after weeks of feeling rather shit. Loras’ decision to forgive him enough to see him was the best birthday present that anyone could have given him.

 

* * *

 

 

He was a little tipsy by the time that he caught sight of Loras again. He was standing by the doorway that led through to the kitchen. Leaning elegantly against it, Renly reckoned if he’d had a camera to hand, he could have snapped a Vogue cover right then and there. He had a drink in his hand, and whilst he oozed sophistication and glamour on the outside, Renly could see his fingers trembling slightly as they gripped the glass which, following his month and a half in rehab, Renly suspected was merely a soft drink that was masquerading as some sort of spirit. He was evidently out of his comfort zone, and yet Renly wondered if he was the only one who saw that. Looking about the room, he could see many of his guests still sneaking awestruck glances at him. Others meanwhile were taking photos of their friends which conveniently happened to include him in the background. Loras, it seemed was the star attraction of the party, and yet looking at him, Renly was reminded of a lion in a zoo. Everyone wanted pictures, and to gush later to their friends about how he was there, but certainly nobody was brave enough to approach.

Sighing, Renly was reminded of something Loras had admitted to him whilst they were dating. _People rarely come up and talk to me,_ he’d said. _Apparently I’m unapproachable._ It was sad, Renly thought, because Loras _did_ look unapproachable. He was too perfect looking; too recognisable; his clothes were too expensive. Renly doubted though that he _meant_ to give off those signals.

Definitely not, Renly concluded, as he watched Loras more intently. He had a very forced smile on his face which most people were probably reading as a little smug, but which Renly suspected was actually intended to be inviting. Indeed, once Loras had finished his drink, he stood up straight, glancing at the nearest group of people. For a good couple of seconds he seemed to be making a beeline towards them, before he apparently changed his mind and veered off subtly towards the drinks table.

Renly watched a little sadly as Loras poured himself another drink, indeed of pure lemonade. He waited there for a few seconds, but when nobody struck up a conversation with him, he went on his way again, this time settling himself in Renly’s favourite armchair in the corner of the room.

Sighing, Renly turned his gaze away. A large part of him wanted to go over again, but he still had far too many guests to thank for cards and presents to let Loras monopolise his company this early in the evening. Regretfully thus, he turned his back and resumed thanking and greeting.

It seemed to take him a year to get round all his guests. Sansa really did seem to have invited the whole company. Most surprisingly, she’d even invited Guyard Morrigen, that man from the second floor who Renly had gone out with a few times. Renly had been slightly shocked to see him, but if Guyard had felt slighted by the fact that Renly had declined a third date with him all that time ago, he didn’t show it. He was as bouncy as ever, gushing about how pleased he was to be here. He’d even wrapped up a copy of his own CD for Renly to listen to, something which Renly accepted with difficultly, trying his best to stifle his laughter.

Guyard, thankfully though, had marked the last of the guests that Renly had to thank, and Renly was just helping himself to another glass of pink champagne when he noticed Loras again out of the corner of his eye. He was still sat in the very corner of the room in the armchair, swivelled round now slightly so that he half had his back to the group. He’d long finished his drink, and his attention was completely directed towards his phone. It was a deliberate attempt now to hide his discomfort, Renly thought, and he wandered over like a moth drawn to a flame, hoping that Sansa wasn’t watching, for she would certainly disapprove.

His predictions had indeed been correct. As he approached, he saw that Loras was doing little more than playing Candy Crush on his phone. Perching on the edge of the armchair, Renly leant over his shoulder to get a closer look.

“You want to move the blue one there,” he laughed.

Loras startled and looked immediately up. Rolling his eyes, he shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Don’t creep up on me like that,” he said, giving Renly a hefty prod in the stomach.

Renly just slung an arm round his shoulder, the pink champagne making him brave. “You all right?” he asked. “Aside from me creeping up on you?”

Loras raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yes,” he said, his voice rather sharp. “I’m fine. You having a good birthday?”

Renly nodded. “As good as a twenty eighth birthday can be,” he laughed, leaning a little heavier against him. “But I was planning on being a little drunker than this.” He leant further in to whisper in Loras’ ear. “Got to practise for my thirtieth you see. Will not want to remember that.”

Loras raised a smile. “Well,” he said, “If it makes you feel better, you don’t look almost thirty.”

Renly grinned at him. “Damn right I don’t,” he chuckled, lolling against his shoulder. There was a slight pause. “Want another drink?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “Nah I’m all right,” he said. “I’m not drinking if that’s ok.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Renly admitted, finally righting himself so that he wasn’t leaning against him. “And that’s fine, Loras. You do what you need to do. I’ll probably get drunk enough for the both of us.”

Loras smiled and gave him a nudge. “You go do that then. Get off your face. Make me proud.”

Renly just grinned at him. Loras, he knew, was perhaps the resident expert on getting off his face. He wasn't sure he wanted to get quite that out of his mind as to make Loras proud.

Loras placed a hand on his arm. "And if you're around later, maybe we could have a chat?"

"I'm around now," Renly laughed, lolling almost back into his lap as he tried to balance on the arm of the chair.

Loras merely smiled though. "Not now," he said quietly. "Later. When you haven't got so many people to entertain."

 

* * *

 

 

Renly did his best to make Loras proud, and indeed, he was very much past tipsy when he next had cause to notice Loras, something which was courtesy of Sansa tugging insistently on his arm.

“Look,” she hissed, steadying him slightly. “Look who’s trying his luck with Loras! You’ll never believe it!”

Renly duly looked and like she said, he couldn’t believe it: he had to burst out laughing when he saw Guyard of all people approaching Loras, a bounce still in his step. “Oh god,” he chuckled. “Poor Guyard. Loras won’t give that boring old sod the time of day. Knowing him, he’ll probably look him up and down, see that brilliantly bright green jumper he’s chosen, and decide that he’s not worth talking to.”

“Oh dear,” Sansa whispered. “You don’t think he’ll be _too_ rude to Guyard do you?”

Renly grinned, downing a large portion of his drink. “Who knows? He well may be.” He watched with some delight as Guyard reached Loras, waiting to see Loras put the aspiring singer back in his place. He was forced to eat his earlier words quite quickly, however, when to his horror, he saw Loras return Guyard’s smile. He then watched in silence, frozen to the spot, as the two of them evidently struck up conversation, standing by the door to the garden.

His stomach almost turned when he saw Guyard’s hand migrate to the small of Loras’ back. It wasn't quite touching him but it was definitely hovering, waiting for the opportune moment. “I don’t fucking believe it,” he growled to Sansa beside him. “How dare he? I won’t have it. Not at my bloody birthday party.”

“Wait, Renly. Wait!” Sansa tried to take his hand but Renly batted her hand away. Downing the rest of his drink, he took a step towards them. Sansa tried to pull him back by his shirt but her grip wasn’t strong enough and he pulled loose easily. 

He was half way across the room when he found himself yanked back by a firm hand around his wrist.

“Renly!” Satin’s voice was as firm as his grip. “ _Calm down_.” He was flanked by Sansa; she had obviously seen it necessary to fetch him.

Renly turned to him angrily. “But do you see what’s going on here?”

“Yes,” Satin said lightly, looping an arm around his waist and securing him there. “Loras is having a conversation with another gay man.” He paused. “And you shall let him.”

“I shall bloody not," Renly snapped. "Exs are off limits at birthday parties. Guyard should know that; he should show some respect.”

“Renly.” Satin’s voice was firmer now. “That man is one of the first people to talk to have a proper conversation with Loras all evening. He’s probably enjoying himself, having a nice time.”

“Yes but do you see where Guyard’s hand is?”

“Mm,” Satin agreed dryly. “On his back. They should probably get a room shouldn’t they?”

Renly groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Whatever," he conceded, a little feebly now. Satin's words were starting to sink in; he was beginning to calm down, to see through the cloud of jealousy and see sense. "But it’s just not nice to see him being flirted with under my very nose.” It was more than 'not nice', he wanted to say. It was awful; it drove him up the wall, made him want to rip something to pieces.

Satin shrugged though, finally thinking Renly calm enough apparently to let go of his waist. “You told me yourself that Loras has lost his confidence, Renly. Perhaps he’s _enjoying_ being flirted with.”

Renly snorted. “Maybe he is. But Guyard should know better. He’s just doing this to spite me. As if flirting with my ex will make him feel better about the fact that I didn’t want to go out with him.”

Satin raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, Renly,” he laughed. “I’m sure it’s that. Nothing to do with the fact that Loras is an attractive young man who he might be interested in, and a supermodel to boot.”

It sounded awful put like that and Renly groaned. “I didn’t mean that,” he protested. “You know I didn’t mean that.” He felt terribly guilty now.

Satin raised his other eyebrow. “Well it’s what you implied.” He took Renly’s arm, gently this time. “Renly,” he soothed. “You’re seeing sort of someone aren’t you? That’s what Sansa told me. And besides, even if you weren’t, you’ve told me many times that you don’t want Loras back, that it wouldn't work. That means you’re not allowed to complain when other people do want him.”

Renly nodded, rubbing his temple and feeling a little unsteady on his feet. He felt a little ashamed. “You’re right of course,” he whispered. “Like you always are.” He leant against Satin for a few moments. “It’s just that a part of me wants Loras too.”

“I know,” Satin soothed. “I know. But we’ve been through this a thousand bloody times. You can’t have it both ways, Renly. You either have him or you face the fact that someone else will end up having him.”

Renly nodded again. “I need another drink,” he murmured. "Or ten."


	63. Chapter 63

Renly woke up a little past four in the afternoon with a splitting headache.

When he mustered enough courage to venture out of his bedroom, he had to groan to see that his flat was an absolute state. His guests were long gone, but they’d left what seemed like an avalanche in their wake. Everywhere he looked there were used cups and glasses, paper plates with remnants of chocolate cake stuck to them, deflated balloons and confetti that had been trampled into the carpet. Had Renly been a better man, and less hung over perhaps, he’d have tidied it all up, but as it was, he just waded through the mess, in search of some very strong coffee and a couple of slices of toast.

He’d hoped that he’d find his phone in the kitchen, for it certainly hadn’t been under his pillow where it usually was, and yet his search was unsuccessful. It wasn’t under the pile of dirty plates, or on what had been the drinks table, or even on any of the counters.

He decided it didn’t particularly matter, because anyone who needed him could send him a message on Facebook, and yet it did prompt him to spend the rest of the evening sorting out the mess that was his flat, regardless of the fact that his head throbbed like someone was hitting it with a hammer and he was ever so slightly drugged up on paracetamol.

It was almost half past eleven when everything was finally back to an acceptable standard, or at least as acceptable a standard as he could achieve. There was no way after all, he reckoned, to disguise the red wine stains all over his cream sofas or to get the chocolate cake out of the carpet. He imagined that that would all need professional cleaning. He had found his phone though. It had been tucked down one of the armchair cushions, the battery long dead, and Renly wondered if it had fallen out of his pocket while he’d been speaking to Loras.

It was only then that he remembered the fact that Loras had wanted a chat with him- something which certainly had not happened unless he’d been a lot drunker than he’d thought- and Renly groaned, feeling terribly guilty. He reckoned he’d have given up the entire evening in exchange for a decent chat with Loras, and more importantly, for a chance to apologise.

He felt even worse when he turned his phone on to see that he even had a message from Loras, sent late last night. It was sod’s law, Renly reckoned, that it would be the one person who didn’t have Facebook who wanted to get hold of him today. With the clarity that the morning after brought, or the evening after rather, Renly felt a little silly now. He hoped to god that Loras hadn’t noticed the very irrational jealousy that had coursed through him last night and it was with some trepidation that opened the message.

 _Sorry I left quite early_ , it read, _but I was wondering if I could maybe see you tomorrow? If you’re around? I’ll be in London all day, so just drop me a text if that would be ok. The lease is up on my flat in Park Lane so I’m down at Claridges if you wanted to come by, or else I could stop by at yours if you’re ;too hung over to move. XX_

Loras had summed up his current state rather well, he thought. He _was_ too hung over to move. Whilst he was pleased beyond belief to see no mention of Guyard, he had to groan when he looked at the time. It was quarter to twelve: only fifteen minutes remained of Loras’ ‘tomorrow’. He texted him back all the same, explaining that he hadn’t had a chance to look at his phone and that he could still pop over if he wanted to and was still in London.

Loras didn’t reply and yet half an hour later, Renly almost jumped to hear a knock at his door. Quite honestly, he hadn’t thought there even the slightest chance that Loras would actually take him up on his offer. He’d been so sure in fact that he’d already changed into his pyjamas and got into bed, completely convinced that he’d missed his chance to see Loras today. He’d apparently been wrong though- Loras was outside this very minute- and that made Renly panic a little. He had no idea what Loras wanted to say to him, no idea how he should mentally prepare himself.

Stumbling down the stairs with his duvet still wrapped around him, Renly yanked open the door. It was blisteringly cold outside and as soon as the door was opened even a crack, it seemed as if he was letting the very arctic into his hallway, along with a lot of snow and dead leaves, all of which flew in as if they were being blown by some great frosty giant.

Loras was the only thing on his top step which hadn’t been blown in. Wrapped up in a coat and a woolly scarf that was almost as big as he was, he’d evidently been too heavy to be carried by the wind. There was snow in his hair though and his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. Quite honestly, Renly didn’t think he’d ever seen him look lovelier. He rather wished that Loras had been blown inside with all the snow and leaves.

“Hey,” he whispered lamely, finding himself a little tongue tied. He was reminded a little of the first time that Loras had turned up on his doorstep, how star-struck he’d been. He wasn’t star-struck now but the effect wasn’t dissimilar.

“You have no idea how pleased I am to see you,” he managed to stammer after a few long moments collecting himself.

Loras just laughed at him, brushing the snow off his shoulders and stepping inside without being invited. “Hung-over by any chance?” he asked.

Renly groaned, wrapping the duvet more tightly around his shoulders. “How ever did you guess?”

Leaning against the hall wall, Loras looked him first up and then down. “Probably something to do with the fact you haven’t shaved or brushed your hair today,” he said, a little fondly if Renly wasn’t mistaken.

Renly grinned and ran an investigating hand over his jaw. He found that Loras was right: he had at least a couple of days’ worth of stubble. He had to laugh though; Loras had certainly seen him look a lot more scruffy over the years.

“Personally,” he argued, taking Loras’ scarf and coat from him. “I think this is my sexiest look actually.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

That made Renly smile and reaching out for Loras’ wrist, he led him upstairs. Normally, he thought, he’d have erred on the side of caution and insisted they stay downstairs, but with his sofas looking like they belonged in a seedy bar somewhere, Renly supposed he’d have to be on his best behaviour.

“Sansa told me you’re seeing someone,” Loras commented quietly as they climbed the stairs.

Renly almost froze. He turned around to face Loras, a little wary as to how he’d have taken that piece of information. “Well yeah,” he told him gently. “Sort of I guess. We’ve got our fourth date next week.”

Loras didn’t say anything to that. He just followed Renly silently up the rest of the stairs, a rather odd look on his face.

He looked a little baffled when Renly pushed open his bedroom door; it had perhaps slipped his mind that Renly no longer had a living room upstairs. “Why are you, um, taking me in here?” he asked. He seemed almost a little frightened, like a deer caught in the headlights on a busy road.

“Because my sofa’s covered in chocolate cake and red wine,” Renly explained.

“But-“

Renly turned to him. “It’ll be fine,” he told him firmly. He was about to reassure him that he had no intention of trying anything on with him, and then he realised that there was quite a lot of potential for Loras to take that the wrong way, for him to assume that the reason for Renly not wanting to try anything was because he was no good at it.

“You sure?” Loras asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“I said it’s fine,” Renly laughed, flicking the bedside lamp on. He wanted to point out too that if they got carried away and ended up wanting to take each other’s clothes off, the sofa would have been as good a place for that as any bed.

Loras didn’t appear much reassured but he did reluctantly climb into Renly’s bed with him and lie opposite him, the covers up over their shoulders but a very respectable distance between them. Indeed, Renly thought he needn’t have worried. It was cosy and they were huddled up under the same duvet, but both of them were clearly too conscious of what had happened last time for either of them to get carried away.

“You all right?” Renly asked him softly, once they were settled.

Loras opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. “No,” he said eventually. “I’m not all right.” Sighing heavily, he rolled over onto his back, eyes trained on the ceiling above them. The warm glow of the bedside lamp bathed his face in light and Renly saw glumly that the expression there was sad somehow, almost doleful.

It was a good few moments before he spoke, and when he did, his voice was barely a murmur, hardly audible above his breathing and the rustling of the sheets. “Everyone thinks I need to let you go,” he whispered. “To move on and build a new life.”

Renly gulped. He could certainly see why everyone thought that. Indeed, the rational part of him which insisted still on looking out for Loras’ best interests thought that too. “And yet you’re here?” he breathed. “Why?”

Loras gulped too. “Well for a long time I thought that you thought that too, Ren. That _you_ wanted me to move on and find someone else. ” He bit his bottom lip, still staring up at the shadows on the ceiling. “And then you pulled that stunt when I was at home. You sat outside in the cold for six hours until we let you in. I don’t really know what to think now.”

Renly sighed heavily. “I felt so terrible Loras. I mean you’re my best friend and you wouldn’t speak to me. I got desperate, Loras. I just _had_ to see you.”

“Yeah but _why?_ ” Loras breathed.

Renly didn’t know how to answer that.

Loras took a deep breath when he realised that Renly wasn’t going to answer and shifted back onto his side. “So I guess I’m here to ask you something,” he whispered. The light was behind him now and whilst it lit up his mass of curls like a halo, it all but shrouded his face in darkness.

“What?”

Loras paused and for a long moment there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, soft in the silence. “I wanted to ask if you see even the possibility of a future with me,” he murmured.

Renly closed his eyes. That question terrified him; the implications of answering it terrified him. “And if I say no?” he whispered.

Loras sighed heavily. His eyes met Renly’s and they were somehow feline in the half-darkness. “If it’s no then I need to hear you say it. It’ll be…. _closure_ I guess. And then I’ll walk away, Ren, leave you to get on with your life in peace.”

Renly opened his mouth to protest and Loras silenced him.

“No, Ren,” he whispered. “Don’t argue. I’m well aware of how much of a burden I am on you.” He shifted slightly, his face courting the light again and Renly saw how very tired he looked. He managed a small laugh though, even if it was laced with a little bitterness. “You know Renly,” he continued wearily. “I saw the fear in your eyes when you told me you were seeing someone. And I don’t want that for you. You should be able to date who you like, without worrying about how your psycho ex-boyfriend will take it.”

“You’re not a psycho, Loras,”

Loras looked across at him. “But I’ve not got it together either.” He paused. “Have I Ren? I’m reliant on anti-depressants and benzos to get through the day. I speak to my counsellor more than I speak to anybody else.” He sighed. “It’s laughable really. I spent the last two months of last year shut up inside a hospital for god’s sake, because I find the outside world difficult.”

Renly sighed. To hear Loras say that almost broke his heart. It took all his restraint not to reach out and pull him to him. “You’re doing your best,” he soothed. “I know you are. And you’re going to be fine, Loras. You’re surrounded by people who love you. Nobody’s going to let anything happen to you.” He reached across the bed and prodded him. “Don’t let me ever hear you call yourself _psycho_ again.”

Loras actually raised a smile. “Whatever,” he laughed.

There was a silence and Loras became serious again.

“Are you going to give me an answer then?”

Renly sighed. This was a path that he’d often refused to let his thoughts go down, and yet Loras was insisting that he follow that forbidden path now to all its possible conclusions; he was insisting that he break through the wall that he’d built up brick by brick inside his own head and actually thought about what kind of future he wanted and whether it had Loras in it.

And he could picture it actually: him and Loras ten years down the line, having breakfast at the table downstairs, waking up beside each other in this very bed, him with a little grey in his hair and Loras looking no different. Two years ago, it had been a future that he’d anticipated having, a future that he’d _expected_ to have even. Now though that future was almost gone, regardless of how much Renly wanted it. It was a wisp of cloud that fell apart in Renly’s hands if he tried to reach out and pull it towards him. It had crumbled into dust; it was gone with the wind.

“And I want you to be brutally honest,” Loras coaxed.

Renly sighed. For the past year, he’d focused all his effort into not being honest at all. He’d done his best to protect Loras, to shelter him, to not give him any false hope that could hurt him later down the line. His white lies and evasions clearly had done him no good though and Renly wondered if it were now time to give Loras the truth, irrespective of whether he thought it best for him.

“ _Brutally honest_ ….” Renly breathed, a little fearful. “All right then, I can do brutally honest.”

He paused, gulping, his mouth suddenly drier than sandpaper.

“Do I see a possibility of a future with you?” he whispered eventually, thinking aloud more than anything. “Well if it’s honesty that you want, then it’s honesty I’ll give you. My head’s telling me no, not in the slightest. We’d be a train wreck of a couple, Loras. We’ve got trust issues, intimacy issues, neither of us have even properly recovered from our last break up.”

Loras inclined his head. 

“....but that’s only what my head is telling me,” Renly murmured. “My gut instinct is telling me something very different, Loras.”

This was dangerous ground that they were creeping onto and Loras seemed to sense this too. He swallowed visibly, cocking his head. “Well what does that mean?” he asked, a hint of his usual impatience creeping back into his voice.

Renly sighed. “Again with the brutal honesty. Do I think there’s a real possibility of us working? No. Do I want there to be that possibility? Yes.”

Loras gazed up at him, his brow furrowing. “And why would you want that?”

“Because you’re one of the people most special to me, Loras. Because seeing you upset makes me miserable in a way I can’t bear.” He reached out to touch one of Loras’ curls. It was silky soft between his fingers. “Because, really, even though it’s been almost two years, I still love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Loras was silent.

“You still love me?” he whispered.

Renly sighed heavily. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “I probably always have and I probably always will.”

Loras gulped. He evidently didn’t know how to take that piece of information; he didn’t know how to process it. Renly could see the cogs turning behind those lovely golden eyes of his, could see the confusion washing across his face like a wave breaking on the sand.

“But you still don’t want to get back together?” he murmured.

“No,” Renly had to whisper, even though the word killed him. “I don’t.”

Loras nodded with some difficultly. He was chewing on his bottom lip again, dimpling it. “So where does that leave me then?” he asked.

“I don’t really know,” Renly admitted.

Loras looked at him. “Well me neither,”

“You wanted me to be brutally honest,” Renly sighed. “In which case I think we should both admit that it’s only a very faint possibility that it would ever work again between us.”

Loras closed his eyes, so close that Renly could have tilted his face to kiss him. “You wouldn’t want to even try?” he whispered. His voice was like velvet in the darkness.

Renly sighed. “Loras,” he said heavily. “I don’t think I can tell you how much our last break up hurt. It tore me apart. I’m not sure I could go through that again. But it’s not even that. If it were only my own feelings I was gambling with then I might be tempted, but I’d be gambling with yours too.”

Loras gulped. “ _I’d_ be willing to let you gamble with mine.”

Renly smiled sadly. “Yeah but I’m not.” He sighed. “The risk is too big. It would be like playing Russian roulette. Like you said, you’re fragile, Loras, your coping mechanisms are insane. I don’t want to even risk hurting you again. If I had it my way, I’d wrap you up in cotton wool and never let anyone touch you, let alone me. I’m like a bull in a china shop with you.”

It was only then that Loras looked away, rolling onto his stomach away from Renly’s gaze. “So you don’t think there’s even the slightest possibility of us ever giving it another go?” he mumbled, into the pillow more than to Renly. “Not ever?”

Renly sighed, a sympathetic hand migrating to Loras’ shoulder. Put like that, those words almost broke his heart. He wanted that possibility too much for the absence of it to be set in stone. If their earlier conversation had been dangerous ground though, this was quicksand.

“All right,” he whispered. “I’ll backtrack a little. Maybe _eventually_ there might be that possibility of us, Loras. When you’re a little better and when I don’t feel like either or both of us might jump off the Golden Gate Bridge if we broke up again.”

Loras actually managed a laugh and he raised his head off the pillow. “You know, Ren,” he said. “Even I’m not quite _that_ much of a wreck.”

Renly had to chuckle. “Well you never know. Can’t ever be too careful.” He prodded Loras back onto his side and gave his shirt a gentle tug. “Come here then, won’t you? You’re my best friend and you probably always will be. Can’t that be enough?”

Loras didn’t resist or pull away when Renly wrapped his arms around him. He just buried his face in Renly’s neck, so close that he seemed to fit there like a missing jigsaw puzzle piece. His curls brushed Renly’s face like tight coils of silk and the smell of him was so intoxicating that Renly almost changed his mind, almost told Loras that he did want to make another go of things after all. For despite his words, Renly feared that friendship _wasn’t_ enough, that it would _never_  be enough. He said nothing though, merely clasping his hands more tightly at the small of Loras’ of back.

“Do you not want me to leave you to get on with your life in peace then?” Loras murmured into his skin. Perhaps he too feared that friendship would never be enough.

Renly sighed heavily, bringing a hand to cradle the back of Loras’ head. “That’s not a decision I can make for you, Loras.” He closed his eyes, feeling terrible. Loras had come here searching for a black and white answer, and what Renly had given him was every shade of grey in between.

Indeed, Loras hesitated. “Well,” he stammered. “I don’t really know what I want.” He exhaled softly, the puff of air warm against Renly’s neck. “I can’t think straight when you’re in the same room, Ren. Let alone when you’re here.”

Renly smiled wryly and tightened his arms around him. His forearm brushed against the gap between Loras’ shirt and jeans and it was far too tempting, too smooth, too soft. Gently, Renly pulled his shirt down, closing the gap and covering the offending expanse of skin back up.

“You think about it some other time then,” he whispered, his words almost inaudible. “When you’re thinking more clearly.”

Loras just nodded into Renly’s shoulder, relaxing against him. It was comfortable, warm and soft, and Renly could no longer find the energy to worry about anything. He merely rearranged the covers, tucking them safely around Loras’ shoulders before relaxing too.

He didn’t know how long they lay there, but it felt like several hours. It may well could have been; or it equally could have been little more than a few minutes: Renly didn’t know where his phone was to check the time. Nor did he care. For the first time in months he felt like his conscience was clean again. He supposed the very fact that Loras was wrapped up in his arms was proof enough that he was forgiven.

Even so, he thought he should check. He gave Loras’ shoulder a gentle nudge. “Loras,” he breathed. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me then?”

Loras gave a tiny little yawn and raised his head. “Forgiven you?” he mumbled. He’d evidently been on the verge of falling asleep and his hair was sticking up in an ungainly tuft where it had been flattened against Renly’s shoulder.

“God, you’re lovely,” Renly murmured.

Loras just smiled lazily at him, a hand going to his hair to tame it. “What were you asking?” he yawned.

“If you’ve forgiven me,” Renly whispered. “I’m well aware I screwed up.”

“Mmm,” Loras murmured, burrowing back into the duvet, this time by himself. “You screwed up by screwing me.”

Renly felt the twitch of a smile. “Well yeah,” he admitted. “That, also that list too and how I behaved afterwards, when I came to see you in rehab. That was pretty bad too.” It was more than pretty bad, he reckoned. It was inexcusable. 

Loras merely shrugged though. “It’s okay,” he mumbled.

Renly sighed heavily. He refused to believe that the slate could be wiped clean so easily, even if Loras did love him. “You know, Loras,” he said. “I was so surprised that you even gave me the time of day that evening. After you’d seen that list.”

Loras raised his head and had to shield his eyes from the lamplight. “Why?”

“Well you must have been so angry. Rightly so of course.”

Loras shrugged. “I _was_ angry,” he admitted, “I was furious even. But I felt guilty too. I guess that’s why I gave you the time of day.”

“Guilty? Why?”

Loras closed his eyes and inched closer again, resting his head back on Renly’s shoulder. “Well isn’t it obvious Ren?” he asked wearily. Renly got the feeling that he’d rather have just curled up at his side again and gone to sleep.

“Well no,” Renly protested all the same, propping himself up on his elbow. “It’s not obvious in the slightest why you might have felt guilty.”

Loras sighed, making Renly’s shoulder warm. “Is it not?” he asked.

“Nope.”

Seemingly reluctantly, Loras too propped himself up on his elbow. “Well, Ren, some of the things on that list… well they reflected really badly on me, on the sort of boyfriend I’d been to you.” He paused, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his spare hand. “You know Ren, Baelish already had mock ups of the articles they were going to publish, and it was awful. They made me out to have been proper violent to you, accused me of domestic abuse, of being a paranoid compulsive liar.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought of that. “Oh Loras,” he sighed.

Loras ignored him. “And I was sitting there reading them, and yeah I was angry, but I was proper ashamed too. I thought to myself ‘is this how Renly really sees me?’ and that terrified me you know, to think that that was how you remembered our time together.”

“It’s not, Loras. It’s really not.” Getting over him would have been a lot easier if that had been the case. He’d had his moments, but that’s thankfully what they’d been: moments.

Loras closed his eyes again, apparently not particularly reassured. “And that slimy bastard was sitting opposite me and watching me read it.” He gulped loudly. “And I was so embarrassed, Ren. You say that’s not how you see me, but it wasn’t all made up either. I _did_ throw those plates at you, and I probably told you at least two or three lies a day when we were going out. Compulsive liar wasn’t so much of a stretch.” He sighed and leant his forehead against Renly’s shoulder. “So yeah, I guess that’s why I was more willing to forgive you than you evidently expected me to be. I felt humiliated, but I felt pretty shit too about the sort of person I’d been. There was a part of me I suppose that wanted you to forgive me too.”

Renly could understand where he was coming from and yet he had to laugh. “Can we agree to forgive each other then?”

“Sounds fair.”

Renly stretched out a little across the bed. He felt better now, like a weight was off his shoulders. He imagined that he’d sleep easier tonight than he had in months. He wondered though if Loras would too, or if he’d toss and turn, dwelling on what had been said.

“Where were you planning on sleeping tonight then?” he asked him quietly. He didn’t just want to assume that Loras wanted to stay here with him.

“I don’t really know,” Loras admitted. “Hotel I suppose.” He sat up against the headboard, stretching his arms out and making an unpleasant clicking noise. “I need to get myself another flat at some point, preferably not in bloody Mayfair this time.”

Renly frowned. “Not going back home then?”

Loras was silent for a good few moments. “Nah,” he mumbled eventually, raking a hand through his curls. “Margaery’s still not back at uni and she’s not speaking to me at the moment.”

“Because you came to see me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Because I came to see you,” Loras confirmed.

That tugged at Renly’s heartstrings more than he could bear and he sat up too. He knew how dear Margaery was to Loras; he didn’t much like to think of the two of them falling out over him. “You want to stay here for a couple of days then?” he asked, trying to keep the pity out of his voice.

“All right,” Loras murmured.

Renly pulled gently away from him, getting to his feet. It was icily cold out of bed and he went quickly to the window. The snow was swirling outside properly now, painting blinding white patterns in the portion of sky that was illuminated by the street lights. It seemed a shame to draw the curtains somehow and he couldn’t help but sigh a little as he pulled them to.

The wardrobe was his next stop and he pulled out a pair of pyjama bottoms and one of his t-shirts rather carelessly. He chucked them to Loras. “Here,” he laughed. He didn’t dwell on the fact that he’d remembered far too well which pair of his pyjamas fit Loras best.

Loras changed under the covers, folding his clothes in a neat pile on the floor. “You want me to go in the other bedroom?” he asked.

Renly considered it only briefly, before deciding that the damage was already long done for tonight. “Nah,” he sighed, getting back into bed and flicking off the lamp. “You can stay here if you like.”

“You sure?”

“Yes I'm sure,” Renly murmured, wrapping his arms back around him. “But just for tonight.”

Loras exhaled softly at that and buried his face back in the cotton of Renly’s t-shirt. “You know, Ren,” he whispered into the fabric. “I always feel so safe here. Everything feels so right somehow.”

Renly paused, hand halfway to Loras’ hair. “That’s only an illusion, Loras,” he told him sadly. He tightened his arms around him all the same though, anchoring him to him like a ship in a storm. 

Loras nodded into his shoulder. “Well can we run with the illusion until morning then?”

“Sure we can,” Renly murmured, the sound almost lost in Loras’ curls as he shut his eyes.


	64. Chapter 64

Loras was still asleep when Renly woke, stretched out now across the other side of the bed, the side of the bed which had once been his. He was tucked right up under the covers, his curls had fallen over his face and he looked so warm and cosy that Renly couldn’t bear to disturb him.

He was sat up in bed though when Renly returned with breakfast, his curls rumpled and his phone in his hands. He smiled as Renly climbed back into bed.

“Here,” Renly yawned, pushing one of his four pieces of toast into Loras’ hands. “You like marmalade don’t you? Eat.”

To his surprise, Loras didn’t protest and he actually took a quite large bite. Apparently he did like marmalade.

“You’ve got so much better,” Renly chuckled. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you even touch breakfast.”

“Mmm,” Loras hummed, his mouth full of toast.

“And you’ve put on weight,” Renly added encouragingly.

Loras groaned though. “Please don’t remind me.”

“But it’s a good thing,” he urged. “You look so much better.”

Loras shrugged. “It’s okay at the moment, but at the rate I’m going, I’ll be your weight soon.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He wasn’t _that_ heavy but he let the jibe slide. He supposed after all that once height and frame differences were taken into account, Loras would indeed have to be quite fat before he reached fourteen and a half stone. “Over indulge over Christmas then?” he teased.

Loras, however, didn’t laugh. “Not particularly,” he said tightly. “I’ve just destroyed my metabolism so badly that eating even vaguely like a normal person has sent my weight spiralling out of control. The nutritionist at that place I went to says it’s normal, that it’s inevitable, but it isn’t half irritating.”

He sounded really down and Renly didn’t know what to say to that. He supposed Loras must have been highly conscious of his weight for a decade now, and he could understand why finding that he no longer had much control over it would be unsettling. Loras was that type of person too. He liked to be in control of everything concerning him; he wasn’t very good at just going with the flow like Renly did.

He wrapped an arm around him. “The important thing is that you’re getting better, Loras,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter how much you weigh.”

Loras said nothing. He just ate his toast silently.

“So what time did you leave my birthday?” Renly asked, thinking he’d do well to change the subject. “You said you left early.”

“Bout half one.”

Renly nodded. “Um, alone?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well I could see one of my colleagues was um, taken with you?” That was an understatement, Renly thought. Guyard had been all over Loras like a rash. Renly got the feeling that if Loras had let him, he’d have quite happily eaten him with a spoon.

Loras laughed though. “That Guyard bloke?”

“The very same,” Renly chuckled. “So… you go home by yourself?”

Loras rolled his eyes and flopped back against the bed. “Well if you must know, he offered to walk me home.”

Renly gulped. “And did he?” he prompted.

Loras stretched out. He was quite evidently enjoying this conversation. “No, I got a taxi. It’s like a forty five minute walk to Mayfair from here, and it was fucking freezing.”

Renly couldn’t hide the relief on his face.

Loras smiled though, like a grinning Cheshire Cat. “He did give me his number though, and ask me to call him.” He stopped there and the pause was certainly deliberate; he clearly intended to leave Renly hanging, to entice him into asking more.

Renly was almost tempted to change the subject just to avoid taking the bait but Loras unfortunately had the right of it: he was far too desperate to know to _not_ ask. He swallowed his pride. “And what did you tell him?” he murmured.

Loras’ smile widened. “I told him maybe,” he said.

His voice was like a sing-song and Renly gritted his teeth. He sorely regretted being so candid with Loras last night; some of his confessions had given Loras a power over him that he didn’t much like. He’d made the mistake too of refusing to give him a definite no, and in doing so he knew that he’d set Loras a challenge, a challenge that he would likely not back down from for several months now. Indeed, Renly got the feeling that Loras would likely spend at least the next few weeks trying to make him extremely jealous. The sad thing was that Renly reckoned he’d be most successful in those attempts.

“Only maybe?” Renly asked though.

“Yes,” Loras said bluntly. “I was hedging my bets with you.” He stretched again, his back briefly arching off the bed. “But I guess I might as well go now. I’ve nothing to lose. He seems like a nice guy after all.”

Renly made a face.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with him then?”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with him.”

“But you made a face.”

“Did I?” Renly smiled innocently. As jealous as he was, he didn’t _actually_ want to sabotage Loras’ attempts at dating. He may have wanted to on the night of his birthday, but he was sober now. He knew that it was in the interests of both of them that Loras moved on, regardless of how much it hurt, and Renly thought he’d do best to keep his misgivings about Guyard to himself.

Loras was not fooled however. “Yes,” he said suspiciously. “You certainly did make a face.” Rolling over onto his side, he prodded Renly in the stomach, really rather hard. “So you’ll spill the beans or I’ll make you spill them.”

From how hard he was poking him, Renly didn’t doubt it. “Fine,” he laughed. “Well Guyard… he’s sort of my ex.”

Loras bit his lip. “Sort of?” he asked. The nonchalance was gone now and he seemed a little thrown.

“Yeah,” Renly told him gently. “We went on a couple of dates last year. If you must know, he was my rebound off you actually.”

“Oh.” Loras’ expression wobbled. “And what’s wrong with him then?”

Renly wrapped an arm back around him. “Nothing’s _wrong_ with him per se,” he laughed. “It’s just, well…”

Loras frowned. “Well what?” he urged.

Renly tucked a lock of hair behind his ear fondly. “Well, you’re a bit out of his league, aren’t you? You’re a supermodel and he’s a Client Data and Management something.”

“A Client Data and Management Information Co-ordinator,” Loras finished for him. “He works on the second floor and you work up on the fifth. He told me all this; I know his job’s a little dull.”

“Well yeah,” Renly agreed, “and you’re a male model, Loras. You’re worlds apart.”

Loras shrugged though, “I’ve been on a lot of dates with other male models, Ren. And it never works out.”

Renly cocked his head. “Well why not?” he laughed. “I’d have thought you’d have a lot in common.”

Loras made a face. “Too much in common perhaps,” he said. “Too much ego to fit around one table.”

Renly grinned. “ _We_ had a serious amount of ego between us, Loras. And we didn’t get on too badly did we?”

Loras laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he admitted. “We did, but we were successful in different fields. With other male models, we’re in direct competition with each other. It always gets nasty.” He dropped his voice. “They get too jealous of me you see.”

Renly snorted. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “So are you going to go on a date with Guyard? Or are you not?”

The causal nonchalance was back and Loras smiled widely. “Probably,” he smirked.

Renly tried to bury the jealousy simmering underneath his skin again; he forced himself to be cool, like a cucumber. “Fine,” he laughed. “But I’ll give you a tip. Do yourself a favour and don’t bother going to any of his gigs.”

Loras’ brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Oh just because.” Renly ruffled his hair a little before climbing out of bed to tidy the breakfast things away. He thought he’d let Loras discover for himself why Guyard’s gigs were to be avoided.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras had apparently been serious about finding another flat in London, for that very afternoon he dragged Renly along with him to view a property in Bank. From the pictures Loras had shown him online, it looked like a nice property, a fully sized penthouse suite that looked over the Bank of England. Renly hadn’t put up much of a fuss about accompanying him; he could definitely think of worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than being shown round a very fancy flat.

“You know, Loras,” Renly commented as the estate agent led them into the lift, “this is literally a stone’s throw away from where I work.”

“Is it?” Loras seemed genuinely surprised. It was to be expected, Renly supposed. Loras had not once come to his workplace whilst they’d been dating.

“Yeah,” Renly laughed. “I work across the road from here.” The lift was a glass one and Renly pointed. “In that building over there. My office is on the other side, looking out over Threadneedle Street. If you lived here, we could go for lunch.”

Loras smiled. “That would be nice.”

The lift had reached the top floor now and the estate agent took a key out of her pocket. “I’ll let you take a look around,” she said once she had unlocked the door, sneaking a last awestruck glance at Loras. “I’ll be waiting out here if you have any questions.”

Loras pushed open the door and both of them had to exhale loudly. “Well,” Loras said. “The pictures online must be rather old.”

Renly could only nod. Online, the penthouse had been elegant, luxuriously fashioned but tastefully so. The room that they had just walked into was anything but. The wallpaper was a vibrant red, and despite it supposedly being the living room that they were in, there was a bed in the centre of the room, complete with a leopard print throw. There was even a pole screwed into the ceiling and Renly was strongly reminded of a pimp house. He almost expected Hugh Hefner or one of the Playboy bunnies to come strolling in.

“Excuse me,” Loras was calling for the estate agent. “Are you sure this is the right property?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “Between you and me, it was previously rented by a wealthy businessman, until his wife found out. He took the liberty of changing the décor a little, used it as his bachelor pad I’m told.”

“Or for his sex parties,” Renly muttered under his breath.

Loras just laughed and turned back to the estate agent. “Well thank you for your help, we’ll take a look around now.”

Renly grinned once she was gone. “Well,” he chuckled, folding his arms. “This is interesting. Bit tacky isn’t it?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Well I don’t know,” he said dryly. “I’ve always wanted a hot tub with low level red lighting.”

Renly grinned. “And a pole in your living room?”

“Indeed.” Loras wandered across the room and flopped down on the bed. “I dread to think how many prostitutes have been on this bed.”

“I’ll have to ask Satin,” Renly chuckled. “See if the address is familiar.” He flopped down on the bed and stared up at the mirrored ceiling. He had to hand it to whoever had furnished this place; he reckoned it would certainly be quite an experience to have sex in here. He imagined Satin might have been rather impressed if a little bemused.

Loras looked around though and shrugged. “Nah,” he said. “This apartment reeks of a straight guy. He’ll have been ordering in busty blonde girls like pizza.”

Renly thought he’d be inclined to agree.

“So what do you think?” Loras said. “I guess I could rip the entire interior out.” He sounded doubtful. “I mean, the bare bones of this place are great. It’s an amazing location, the rooms are huge according to the spec.”

Renly shrugged. “Yeah but it’s a faff, Loras.” He didn’t think he’d bother if he was Loras. He had all the money in the world; he could certainly afford for the place he rented to be perfect in every respect.

Loras murmured his agreement and got to his feet, pulling Renly up too. “So you actually don’t mind if I stay with you for a few days then?” he asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t worry about it. And who knows,” Renly teased. “Maybe you’ll be moving into Guyard’s flat soon.” He threw Loras a wink. This, he found, was the only way he could deal with thinking about Loras going out with someone else. Somehow, teasing him mercilessly seemed to help him suppress his jealousy. He knew that he was overcompensating, going a little over the top to try and show Loras just how okay he was with the idea, but he reckoned he just had to roll with it now.

Loras merely shot him an exasperated look. “We haven’t been on our first date yet,” he muttered, leading them into one of the bedrooms.

Renly smiled at him. “But you’ve arranged it right?” He was sure that he had; he’d seen him texting next to him in the car as they’d driven over.

“Yep.” Loras gave the equally tacky bedroom a once over before walking through into the next.

“When for?” Renly had to jog a little to catch up with him. Loras was powering through the rooms like a man on a mission.

“Tomorrow,” he said loftily.

Renly nodded, making a mental note to text his own date this evening. It made sense after all that he and Loras went out on the same evenings whilst he was staying.

“I’ll probably go out tomorrow too then,” he told Loras. He smirked. “Don’t fancy double dating do you?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Don’t joke.”

Renly grinned. He had been joking. He couldn’t imagine a more awkward situation if he were being honest. “Where you going then?” he asked.

“Dorchester,” he said, “for dinner.”

Renly nodded, impressed. Only Loras, he reckoned, would have been able to get a reservation there for the next day. The food, he was told, was unrivalled there. “Sounds expensive,” he chuckled. “Who’s paying?”

Loras shrugged. “Me I suppose, depending how proud he is.” He shot Renly a look as he said that.

Renly had to laugh though. “So what if I liked to pay my share,” he argued. “You may be extremely rich, Loras, but I’m not exactly poor myself. I like to treat my boyfriends.” He inspected the bathroom as Loras led him through it.

“Yes, well I expect Guyard’s salary is less than yours. I don’t want him to feel embarrassed or inferior.”

Renly rolled his eyes. Only Loras would casually choose the most expensive restaurant in London and then have the gall to say that he didn’t want his date to feel inferior. It hadn’t been so much of a problem with him; he’d had a decent amount of money of his own to splash about as he pleased.

“He won’t,” Renly assured him though. “You’re rich and famous. He’s well aware of that. I doubt he’ll be expecting you to take him to McDonalds.” He leant against the doorframe that led back into the living room that looked like it belonged in a brothel. “I mean it would be hilarious if you _did_ take him to McDonalds but the Dorchester will probably be nicer.”

Loras raised an eyebrow as he passed him. “Well hopefully it’ll be a _lot_ nicer.”

Renly grinned. “I’m sure it will be.” He prodded Loras playfully, reaching out with the other hand to grab the pole in the middle of the room and swing round it a little. “Though... if you want to go home with him, you’ll have to go round to his. I won’t have those sort of sordid going-ons in my house. My house isn’t anything like this place.”

Loras’ jaw hardened. “I shan’t be going home with him,” he mumbled.

“No?” Renly felt guilty now. He wondered if his teasing had gone too far for him.

“No.” Indeed, it was obviously an uncomfortable topic for him and he wandered through to the kitchen rather hurriedly.

“It’s a nice view from here, Ren,” he called a few moments later. “Come and see.” It was his way of changing the subject and Renly let him. He didn’t want Loras to feel embarrassed after all.

 

* * *

 

 

Tomorrow came quickly, and on the outside Loras seemed calm and collected as he sat on the window sill waiting for the taxi that would take him to the restaurant he’d picked out for himself and Guyard. He was his usual haughty self and he’d picked out his clothes for the evening carelessly, seemingly grabbing clothes out of his suitcase at random before emerging from his bedroom looking as perfect as he usually did. On the inside, however, Renly wasn’t so sure. If he looked closely, under the cool façade Loras seemed a little fidgety, on edge slightly, and he kept on looking at his watch more than was necessary. He was nervous, Renly reckoned, and that was a sad thing indeed. He didn’t think _anybody_ should be nervous about going on a date with Guyard Morrigen of all people, least of all Loras Tyrell.

“Renly,” he hissed as the minutes ticked by. “Can I ask you something quickly before the cab arrives.”

Renly was halfway through dialling a cab for his own date but he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Sure,” he said. “Ask away.”

“Guyard? He won’t _expect_ me to go home with him will he?”

Renly tried to hide the expression that those words brought to his face. Sighing, he joined Loras on the window sill and put his hands on his shoulders. “Loras,” he said, meeting his gaze steadily. “I was just teasing yesterday. Promise.”

Loras chewed on his bottom lip. “Yes,” he said impatiently. “But you know the guy. What’s his first date policy?”

Renly bit back a sigh. “Well we didn’t go home together if that helps. On neither the first nor the second date.”

“Okay.” Loras ran a hand through his curly hair and once more he was cool and collected, like he’d even never asked the question.

Renly laughed under his breath and brought his legs up onto the sill to mirror Loras’ posture. “Did you used to get this nervous before dates with me?” he asked.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Nervous?” he clarified, staring determinedly out of the window for his taxi. “What do you mean, nervous?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yeah _nervous_.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Let me feel your palms then,” Renly insisted, his face breaking into a grin as he reached out for Loras’ hands.

Loras batted him away though and wiped his hands hastily on his jeans. He smiled up at him sweetly. “You’ve got your own date tonight, Ren. Shouldn’t you be getting changed?”

Renly frowned. “But I’ve already got changed?” he laughed.

“Oh,” Loras looked him up and down scathingly. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t realised.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You’re such a bastard, Loras. You know that? You _knew_ I’d already got changed.”

“Did I?” Loras just smirked at him and got up off the windowsill to get going.


	65. Chapter 65

“It was my friend Rhaegar who recommended this place actually,” Jon announced as the waiter laid pizzas in front of both of them, “He’s quite the connoisseur on Italian restaurants. Really knows what he's talking about."

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. “So does one of my exs. He used to work a lot in Italy.”

Jon nodded at that, picking up his cutlery. “What did he do in Italy?”

“He was a fashion model.” _Quite a well-known one,_ he wanted to add. But that would have been bragging, he reckoned, and as fun as that would be, Renly thought it was better avoided. He didn't want Jon to feel inadequate. As an ageing man who was a little over the hill, Renly reckoned that he'd probably feel a little threatened by Loras Tyrell.

Jon nodded, his thoughts a little faraway. “They always said Rhaegar could have been a model, when he was younger of course.” he murmured, popping a morsel of pizza into his mouth. “He has quite the most striking looks. Purple eyes you know, like Elizabeth Taylor used to have.”

“Sounds handsome,” Renly agreed grudgingly. Personally though, he had to think that that sounded rather ridiculous.

“Was your ex handsome?” Jon asked.

“Yep," Renly grinned. "Very. Still is actually. Brown eyes though. Perhaps not as _unusual_ as purple.”

Jon nodded along. “Are you still friends?”

“Yes,” Renly said. “We are.” He coughed. “And um, Rhaegar? Are you two still friends?”

That brought a smile to Jon's slightly weathered face. “Oh yes," he agreed cheerfully. "He lives in the countryside with his wife. I see him often. I’m godfather to one of his children, you see. Rhaegar would have no-one else when his first son was born. I was the only one he and his wife trusted enough for the job.”

“Oh,” Renly nodded along. The mention of _the wife_ explained a lot. He’d assumed Rhaegar an ex but apparently he was merely an unrequited flame. He wondered if Rhaegar knew that the godfather to his children was in love with him. He contemplated it only briefly before another thought hit him, a more worrying one. He gulped, the pizza sticking in his throat like toffee. “ _You_ don’t have children do you?” he asked. He reckoned that exactly the sort of thing that people would tend to hide on Tinder.

He relaxed though when Jon shook his head. “If I did, I probably would have mentioned them by the fourth date," he told Renly with a laugh.

“True,” Renly agreed. “True. Do you _want_ children though?”

Jon paused for a few moments, swilling his glass of red wine. “Well if anything happens to Rhaegar and his wife, I promised them that I would raise their children like my own, but apart from that, no. You?”

Renly shrugged. “I’ve never really thought about it to be honest," he admitted.

“I suppose you’ve probably never been in a position to think about it,” Jon agreed. “What are you again, twenty eight?”

“Yeah, twenty eight,” Renly agreed with a rare smile. Usually that number made him frown, but he supposed that this was the one big advantage of dating Jon; he himself always seemed very very young whilst sitting opposite him.

 

* * *

 

Loras was already home when Renly got in. He was sat at the kitchen table with several books laid in front of him, their pages open at list of equations and numbers. It all looked rather dull, Renly thought, and he was suddenly transported back to his own school days. It made him rather nostalgic, even if the memory of Stannis helping him with his homework made him feel a little ill.

“Bit late to be working?” Renly commented as he joined him in the kitchen, placing his hands on Loras’ shoulders and peering over him to see what he was doing. Closer up, it looked just as boring as it had done from afar.

Loras tried to shrug. “You weren’t back. I thought I’d do something useful.”

Renly laughed and took his hands off Loras’ shoulders. “Maths right?”

“Maths,” Loras agreed. He sounded a little distasteful and he ran a hand wearily through his hair. “You know what, Ren? I really suck at maths.”

Renly grinned, peering over his shoulder again. “You can’t suck _that_ much, surely?”

Loras twisted round to look at him. “Oh I can,” he assured him. “I’m really quite terrible. It wasn’t too bad when I was having actual classes, or when Willas was around to help me, but the self-study book seems really hard.”

Renly cocked his head. “You want me to help you? I’m not too bad at Maths.” He frowned. “At least I wasn’t twelve years ago, which is the last time I actually _did_ any maths.”

Loras smiled. “Thanks, but I think I’ll call it a day now.” He shut the book with a snap, stifling a yawn.

Renly sat down next to him. _“So_ … how was it?”

Loras didn't need to ask what he was referring to. “Fine.”

“And he let you pay, did he?” Renly smiled, stretching his legs out under the table. He knew Loras had been worrying about that.

“Yep. He did.”

“How much was it?” Renly yawned. He knew it was considered rude to talk about money, but he imagined Loras wouldn’t care. He had too much of the stuff to care.

Loras shrugged. “A few hundred. Three fifty, I think.”

Renly whistled. “Bet Guyard felt properly wined and dined,” he chuckled. “Even I didn’t spend half that much on him.” He paused. “Come to think of it actually, I don’t think I ever even spent that much on you. Bet you feel hard done by now.”

Loras rolled his eyes. He apparently had nothing to say to that.

“Seriously though, Loras,” Renly prompted. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I did actually. Guyard’s real nice.”

“He is nice,” Renly agreed. But not a lot else, he thought privately to himself.

“And I always thought _I_ was fond of you,” Loras smirked. “But Guyard is like your number one fan. He tells me that you’re wonderful, that you’re most highly esteemed in the company, that everyone really wants to work with you.”

Renly grinned. “Ah well I’m the boss’ brother you see. Little did you know I had so much power and influence.” He scratched his head. “Weren’t you bored with all that talk of company politics though?”

Loras shrugged his shoulders. “Not particularly. I’ve never had a proper job. It’s not all as mundane to me as it is to you.” He paused. "It's all relative, I suppose. I happen to find what goes on backstage at fashion shows very mundane."

“Well if you say so,” Renly laughed. He didn't think Loras had a decent argument there, but he didn't dare protest.

Loras merely shrugged again, turning back to the table. There was a silence while he cleared away his books and materials, but it was a comfortable one, Renly thought, and one which didn’t particularly need to be filled. Renly watched him for a while, amused by the sight of a twenty-three year old tidying away pencils and pens into a pencil case. He looked very much like an overgrown schoolchild and Renly had to laugh. He imagined Loras would have been a deceptively sweet looking child and he was reminded of something Jon had asked him at dinner.

“Loras…” Renly asked. “Do you want children? In the future I mean, not now obviously.”

Loras frowned briefly before looking up. “What brought that question on?” he laughed.

“My date asked me tonight,” Renly confided. “And I realised I’d never really thought about it. Wondered what you thought.”

Loras shrugged. ““I always did,” he admitted. “But I guess it’s rather unlikely now.”

It was Renly’s turn to frown. “What makes you say that?” he asked.

Loras ran a hand through his hair, flicking it out of his eyes. “Well I wouldn’t be a very good father I don’t think,” he said. It was half a chuckle, but Renly thought there was a little sadness there too. It probably wasn't misplaced, Renly thought. Loras wasn't exactly a picture of stability right now and he could barely look after himself, let alone anyone else.

Renly didn't think Loras would appreciate him agreeing with him though and so he changed the subject slightly. “So in this dream of yours?” he asked. “How many do you have?”

Lora shrugged, reclining in his chair. “Two, three maybe. Little girls maybe, with big blue eyes who I can dress in Valentino.”

Renly grinned. He could probably get on board too with the designer clothes aspect of Loras’ plan. He’d never felt broody but he had to admit that clothes in very small sizes always tended to look quite cute. Sansa, he knew, went almost batty whenever she happened to wander into the children and baby departments of shops.

“Sounds great,” Renly admitted with a laugh. “But one big flaw in your plan, Loras.”

“What?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have blue eyes.”

Loras grinned rather sheepishly. “Yeah but you did, he muttered.

Renly rolled his eyes. He certainly wasn’t going to comment on that, even if he was flattered that Loras was evidently a little attached to the colour of his eyes. “So what’s your big life plan now then?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “I don’t have one. Past sitting my exams next June and hopefully scraping a C in maths, that is.”

Renly grinned. “Do you think you’ll ever go back to being a model?”

“I don’t know,” Loras admitted. “A huge part of me misses it, but then I don’t know if I could handle that sort of lifestyle again.”

“You think you’d relapse?”

Loras shrugged. He evidently didn’t want to answer that question, and instead he leant down to pull his ipad out of his bag. “Talking of future plans,” he said, “want to help me field my offers for this year? My manager’s sent through all the ones which he thinks I’ll enjoy looking at.”

“Sure,” Renly told him. “Sounds more fun than algebra at least.”

Loras’ manager must have sent him a photo of a real piece of paper for Loras brought it up on the Mac version of Paint. Several items on the list already had red crosses through them, where Loras had apparently previously been working through his options.

“What are the ones already crossed out?” Renly asked, curious.

“That’s my manager having a laugh, a.k.a the ones that are completely stupid.”

Renly grinned. He'd never met Loras' manager but he sounded like a decent man. “What counts as completely stupid?” he asked.

“Celebrity Big Brother and I’m a Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here. They count as stupid. I’m not quite _that_ washed up. Over my dead body will I do either of those things, and my manager knows that. He's just trying to piss me off."

Renly had to laugh. Loras, he thought, was very easy to piss off. “But you’d be great in the jungle?” he protested. "I can see you now, swimming with crocodiles and wading through pits of spiders fearlessly."

“Mm,” Loras agreed. “I would be good in the jungle. I’m not squeamish or terrified of heights like most people who go in there seem to be.”

 _“And,_ ” Renly added with a grin, unable to help himself, “you wouldn’t even care if your team didn’t win any food.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “Do you want to help me or not? Because I can do this without your input you know."

Renly duly buttoned his mouth. “Yes I do want to help,” he said meekly.

"Good."

“What about this then?” Renly grinned, one of the listings catching his eye. “You’d be great on Strictly Come Dancing too.”

“Huh?” Loras looked up at him. “Oh yeah, Dancing With the Stars.”

“ _Strictly,_ ” Renly corrected.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Well I know it as Dancing with the Stars," he said. "And as far as I'm concerned, it makes a lot more sense as a title than _Strictly Come Dancing_ does."

Renly rolled his eyes. “It’s no wonder that I thought you were American,” he teased. “Your British allegiance is very poor. You can hardly blame me really for making assumptions."

“But you’d have thought that the accent at least would have been a dead give-away,” Loras said dryly. “I hardly _talk_ like an American.”

Renly grinned. “I bet you can though.”

Loras shrugged, his attention back on the ipad. “If I wanted to."

“Can you show me?”

“No.” Loras didn't even bother to look up.

“Aw come on?”

“Nope.” Loras pushed his hair back off his face. He sounded quite final, and swiping his finger across the screen, he put a big red cross through Strictly Come Dancing.

“What was that for?” Renly laughed. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. “I bet you’d dance pretty well.”

“I probably would,” Loras admitted. “At least the ball room bits. I’d suck at Latin. But ‘celebrity’ versions of things are just such a cop-out don’t you think? I mean hardly anyone who goes on them is _actually_ famous.”

“True,” Renly admitted. He couldn't argue with that. Loras was definitely in a higher calibre of celebrity compared to most of the people who went on those sort of shows. He was almost universally well-known, as opposed to being one of those people who'd had their fifteen minutes of fame several years ago.

“That means Celebrity Master Chef is out too,” Loras hummed. “Not that I wouldn’t be brilliant entertainment.”

Renly couldn’t help but snort. “Oh please do that, Loras," he laughed. "I’d literally _pay_ to see that. All the others would be serving up scallops, and prawn cocktail, and you’d come in with cheese on toast that you’d burned."

Loras rolled his eyes. “I’m not _that_ bad," he argued, but his heart didn't seem quite in it.

“Um yes you are,” Renly told him. “I would never leave you in the kitchen without supervision. To imagine you on Masterchef…” He chuckled just thinking of it. He imagined that he'd watch that series religiously if it ever had anyone quite as rubbish at cooking as Loras on it.

“I could cook them up some nice crack cocaine,” Loras said dryly. “I was pretty expert at that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Though, now you mention it, I did ruin several batches of that once. Left it on the heat too long and ended up with some weird slush type stuff. Had to throw it away.”

Renly rolled his eyes; he supposed it was a good thing now that they were able to joke about it, but it still made him feel a little uncomfortable. “Ah well," he conceded a little reluctantly. "Even the best of us make mistakes."

Loras ignored him. “I don’t think I’ll be being a judge on America’s Next Top Model either,” he said. “Only washed up models or very old ones do that.”

Renly couldn’t argue with that either.

Sighing, Loras continued tracing the list with a finger. “Some director apparently wants me to make a cameo in some movie about fashion,” he said absent-mindedly.

“Some _film_ about fashion,” Renly corrected with a grin. He knew that making yet another jibe about Loras' state-side habits would piss him off and yet he just couldn't help himself. He enjoyed winding Loras up far far too much.

Annoyingly though, Loras didn't rise to the bait. He merely ignored him.

“Well you could do that?” Renly sighed when it was absolutely certain that Loras wasn’t going to defend his choice of vocabulary. ” A cameo in a film could definitely be fun.”

Loras shrugged. “I could," he said doubtfully, twisting a curl around his finger. "They asked me for the Devil Wears Prada too, you know. Back when I was fourteen. I was going to be in the scene with Valentino.”

Renly lounged back in his chair, impressed. “That would have been so cool," he laughed. "Why didn’t you?

Loras shrugged. “Because at the time, I really wanted to be in American Vogue, and pissing Anna Wintour off, who was clearly the inspiration for the evil boss in that film, was not something my agency thought wise.” He smirked. "I won't lie. I wasn't too fond of her either. She told me once that I was over-rated and that I wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for my very curly hair, but she was pretty impressive too. You know, she went to the première of that film wearing Prada. I had a lot of respect for that."

Renly had to grin. "That's pretty impressive," he laughed. "But really? Over-rated? She actually called you that?"

"Mmm," Loras hummed. "Yep, _over-rated_. I was pretty pissed, not going to lie. I gave her a piece of my mind."

Renly could well believe it. He wondered if Anna Wintour had finally met her match in Loras; he was probably as ferocious as she was. "So will you do this one?” he asked. "As long as it doesn't insult anyone important?"

Loras shrugged. “It’s only a cameo, so I’ll put a maybe if you think it would be fun.” He highlighted in it amber. Biting his lip, he then looked yet further down the list. “Lots of singers have approached me too for their music videos." He sounded a little put out.

“Not a fan of music videos either then?” Renly asked, shuffling closer to get a closer look.

Loras shrugged. “I don’t mind doing them actually, it’s just some people refuse to get the message. I think I’ve turned down Lady Gaga videos about twenty times now.”

Renly tried to suppress the grin that came to his face at that. “Well that would have been hilarious," he said.

“Yeah…” Loras agreed, voice dripping sarcasm. “Her team seem to think that just because I date men, I’ll want to jump around singing ‘born this way’ or dress up as a stripper Nazi and pretend to choke on rosary beads.”

Renly just had to laugh. He could think of nothing to say to that. Imagining Loras doing either of those things was quite amusing.

“I mean I appreciate the message that she’s trying to send,” Loras added, “but it’s all so in your face.”

Against his better judgement, Renly ruffled his hair. “Well I for one think you’d look great as a stripper Nazi," he told him. He quickly then ignored the death-glare that that earned him. “So what other music videos have you turned down?”he asked.

“Oh loads,” Loras told him. “Taylor wanted me for Blank Space, which I have to admit would have been hilarious, but it clashed with something else. Can’t remember what.” He scratched his head. “I turned down Miley Cyrus too for something which was definitely for the best.” He yawned, tipping back on his chair. “I did one for Lana Del Rey last year though, and for Rihanna back in the day.”

“But you don’t want to do any now?”

“Nah,” Loras sighed. “If I do anything I reckon, it’ll be modelling.”

“So what are the options for modelling?” Renly asked.

“Well it seems I’m Dior’s first choice for the male lead in one of their perfume ads,” he said scathingly.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Renly laughed. It didn’t sound like they were asking Loras to drown kittens or anything.

“The name of the perfume is ‘Addict’,” Loras said dryly. “Likewise Yves Saint Laurent wants me for ‘Opium’, which isn’t even fair.”

Renly laughed. “What can I say, Loras? You reap what you sow.”

Loras snorted loudly. “Whatever.” He sighed, running his finger across the screen. “These are the serious ones. Valentino still want me for February’s set of Fashion weeks… emphasis on if _I am well_. Alexander McQueen want me for some campaign, GQ want me for their May cover, French Vogue for an editorial because the photographer has requested me.” He paused, brow furrowing. “ _Abercrombie_ of all people want me. I’m not exactly their usual type.”

“It’s your street cred, Loras,” Renly grinned. He peered down at the tablet. Indeed, Abercrombie was written there. “Well you’d certainly have to go to the gym for that,” he remarked.

Loras nodded, chewing his lip contemplatively. “Yeah, I would.” He crossed that one out. “If I start going to the gym though, it’ll be because I want to, and not because some creative director is standing behind me with a whip and telling me to eat a dozen eggs for breakfast.”

Renly laughed. “Good on you,” he said. He thought that best indeed. Loras needed to want to do things for himself, not because someone else wanted him to. ““So what do you want to do then? Out of the ones we haven’t crossed out?”

“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and yawned again. “Ask me again in the morning when my mind’s not still occupied with hating algebra so much.”

Renly smiled. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest they get ready for bed when there was a knock at the door.

"You expecting anyone?" Loras asked.

Renly frowned. "Nope." Getting up and heading into the front room, Renly peeked out through the curtains. He panicked to see the tip of a pink polka dot umbrella. “God,” he whispered. “It’s Sansa. She can’t know you’re here. She'll literally kill me."

Loras had followed him into the living room and he raised an eyebrow. “She disapproves?”

“Mmm. A lot," Renly murmured. "Not of you particularly, she’s actually still a little awestruck by you. Just thinks we’re fighting a losing battle here.”

Loras merely pursed his lips. “She should get together with my sister sometime," he said dryly.

“She should,” Renly laughed. “But right now you have to hide. I’ll go and get rid of her.”

Loras duly headed back in the kitchen, and once he was gone, Renly tried to think up a believable excuse. There was only one believable excuse that he could think of for him not wanting to see her, and sighing, he pulled his shirt off over his head and mussed up his hair as much as he could.

He opened the door a little warily.

“Well you took your time...” Sansa broke off to grin at him. “Am I interrupting something?”

Renly grinned sheepishly. “Um, yeah, well I’m a little predisposed right now.” It was a white lie but not one he felt particularly bad about. And to be fair, he supposed he _was_ predisposed. Just not with what she had assumed.

She giggled, playing with a lock of her hair. “Is it Jon?” she whispered.

Renly nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah,” he said, embracing the lie with both hands. “And he’s very impatient for me to get back.”

“See,” she hissed. “Told you he was the perfect guy to get over Loras.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Keep your voice down,” he told her. “Please.” That was the last thing he needed Loras to hear.

Thankfully, Sansa seemed to think that that was the last thing Jon needed to hear too and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she breathed, “didn’t think.” She leant closer. "Is he a real fox in the bedroom?" she whispered. "Has his age given him lots of practice?"

"Well I haven't found out _quite_ yet," Renly laughed.

Her eyes shining, Sansa nodded and leant up to give Renly a quick kiss on the cheek. “Well I’ll let you get back to him then," she hissed. "Enjoy yourself. And tell me all about in the morning!”

“Oh I will,” Renly grinned. He shut the door behind her and sighed, pulling his shirt back on. For a brief moment, it occurred to him to wonder why he wasn’t _actually_ was getting laid tonight. It was awful, he thought, that he’d been so much of a hurry to get back and spend the evening with Loras that he hadn’t even contemplated asking Jon if he could come back with him to wherever he lived. Obviously his own place would have been out of question with Loras staying.

Loras was still in the kitchen when Renly came back and he raised an eyebrow. “I’m _Jon_ am I then?” he smirked. That seemed to please him somehow.

“Yep," Renly laughed. "Best way to get rid of her.”

Loras shrugged. “I’d have been fooled too,” he admitted. “Very believable from you.”

Renly wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult so he just smiled. “Well yeah…” he sighed. “She thinks this Jon guy sounds great so at least the white lie made her happy.”

“ _Is_ this Jon guy great?” Loras asked. He'd folded his arms and Renly reckoned he'd be quite put out if Renly said that he was.

Renly shrugged, deciding to tell the truth. “Too early to tell,” he said. _Though I’ll never like him as much as you,_ he wanted to add. He kept his mouth shut though. Loras, he reckoned, probably knew that already. He hardly needed to be told.

"Come on then," he sighed. "We should both turn in."

 

* * *

 

 

Lying to Sansa had apparently taken it out of him and Renly found that he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was awoken what seemed like seconds later though by a soft knocking on his door and the creak of hinges.

“Ren,” a very familiar voice murmured. “You awake?”

Renly groaned, emerging reluctantly out from under the pillow that was over his head. “Mmm?” His throat felt like it was still asleep and Renly would really rather have ignored him instead of replying. Waking up prematurely was something he was loath to do even for Loras.

“Can I come and sit in here with you for a while?” Loras sounded hesitant.

Renly rolled over. He stretched out across the bed, his feet searching for the cool portion of the sheets. “Can’t you sleep?” he mumbled.

“No.”

“Bad dreams?”

Loras was silent.

“Come here then,” Renly yawned.

A few moments later he felt the bed dip and the covers being pulled from around him slightly. Fishing out his phone from under the duvet, Renly squinted at the time. It was half three. In the cold glare his screen gave off, he was surprised to see how terrible Loras looked. He’d seemed quite well earlier, but now he had a sheen of sweat across his forehead and he was as white as a ghost. He'd obviously had a bad night and Renly felt a little sorry for him even despite his tiredness.

“You seemed okay the other night?” Renly yawned.

“Well I don’t get them all the time now,” Loras whispered. “Just sometimes. It might have been the wine.”

Renly unwrapped the covers from around his shoulders and pushed a portion grudgingly towards Loras. “But I thought you’d gone teetotal?” he groaned.

“Made an exception last night,” Loras murmured, his voice hushed. “He suggested we share a bottle and I felt I had to drink some, otherwise he’d have felt obliged to pay for it. And prices started pretty high so I just had a glass or two.”

Renly nodded, rubbing his eyes. It wasn’t his decision, and Loras clearly hadn’t been drunk earlier either. He certainly wasn't in a position to judge.

“And anyway," Loras added. "When it’s only a bit of a wine on a date I don’t feel it particularly matters. It’s the whole getting smashed at parties or clubs thing I need to avoid.”

“That makes sense,” Renly murmured. He yawned loudly. “Want a cuddle then?”

Loras just hummed.

Renly didn’t know whether that was a yes or no so he just wrapped an arm loosely around him and buried his head back under his pillow. He was back asleep in moments.


	66. Chapter 66

February 2nd 2016

_BAELISH EXCLUSIVE: Loras Tyrell braves the snow and rain as he steps out with new beau in London. The pair headed to Alaine Ducasse at the Dorchester, one of only four restaurants in the UK to hold three Michelin stars, and ordered three courses and a bottle of wine before leaving together in a black cab with tinted windows._

_This is the first time the star has been linked romantically to someone since December 2014, when a video was leaked online in which Tyrell performed oral sex on another man whilst under the influence of cocaine before failing to achieve an erection. His partner later called the encounter “boring” and “unfulfilling”, labelling the star “vanilla and frigid.”_

_Baelish can exclusively name the twenty-three-year-old’s new partner as Guyard Morrigen, an aspiring singer who lives and works in London. The pair are said to have met through Renly Baratheon, Tyrell’s ex-partner for most of 2014, [Inset: the pair pictured together in December 2013] with whom the disgraced supermodel is allegedly still sharing a flat with._

_A source close to Guyard Morrigen told Baelish this morning that the pair “had a really good time” and that “the chemistry was certainly there” before going on to say that “it [the relationship] is definitely going somewhere and they’ve already got another date scheduled for Wednesday next week.”_

_Asked if Guyard was worried by the fact that Tyrell is currently sharing a flat with his ex-boyfriend, the source confirmed that he is not and Loras has insisted the pair are “just friends now”._

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Renly closed the tab with a little frustration. If it had been in magazine format, he might have gone out ad bought all the hard copies he could get his hands on, before making a large bonfire out of them. It was Baelish online though, and whilst Renly though his computer skills were decent, he didn’t think himself skilled enough to hack into Baelish’s servers.

It was only a matter of time before Sansa would see it, and even though this wasn’t one of her scheduled days, Renly fully expected that she’d pay him a visit within a few hours.

He wasn’t wrong. It was barely ten-thirty when Renly heard the telling click-clack of heels on hard floors and he barely had time to cower behind his desk before the door swung open.

“Renly,” she said, arms folded across her chest.

“Sansa.” Renly assembled his face into the epitome of innocence.

She wasn’t fooled. “You are such a liar,” she said. “

Renly grinned sheepishly at her. “Well I knew you’d be angry if I told you,” he said, “and I didn’t want to stress you out worrying about something that really doesn’t matter.”

She sat herself down on the edge of Renly’s desk, one leg crossed over the other and a rather unimpressed look on her face. How long has he been at yours then?”

Renly scratched his head. “Like three days?” he said. It felt like longer somehow, like Loras had been there forever.

Sansa met his eyes. “Are you two back together then?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. Of all questions, he hadn’t been expecting that one. “No,” he said slowly. “He’s just staying until he finds a suitable flat. Why would you even begin to assume that we’re back together?”

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t,” she said. “I _asked_.” She paused. “But if you must know, Satin and I made a bet last Friday at your birthday party.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “A bet?” That didn’t sound promising at all.

“Yes,” Sansa said tightly. “He said that you and Loras would be back together within a week. And I said that you wouldn’t, that you were smarter than that. I was just wondering now though whether he was right.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You know, Sansa, Satin’s not _always_ right.”

“I know he’s not,” Sansa agreed. “Which is why _I_ maintained that you were smarter than that, that you weren’t going to go back to a relationship which you know will fail.”

“I am smarter than that,” Renly agreed wearily. “So you can rest easy, Sansa. We’re definitely not going out.” He smiled, reclining in his chair. “And I did actually _go_ on a date with Jon last night if it makes you feel better. I was just stretching the truth a little when I implied that I’d brought him home.”

Sansa refolded her arms. “No, Renly, when you _lied_ about bringing him home. That was not merely implication.”

Renly’s sheepish grin returned of its own will and he reached out to unfold her arms manually. “Fair enough,” he admitted, not seeing a way out of this one. “But don’t be too upset with me, Sansa.”

“I’m not _upset_ ,” she said earnestly, taking Renly’s hands in hers. “I’m just worried about some of your decisions here. I just think that one of the things _not_ to do when you’re trying to get over someone is to live with them.”

Rely rolled his eyes. He could understand her argument, but he didn’t particularly care to hear it. When it came down to it, he was _enjoying_ having Loras stay for a while. “For the last time,” he sighed, “we’re not living together. He’s just staying or a while.”

“Well why?” she demanded. “It’s not like he can’t fork out enough cash for somewhere of his own.”

Renly sighed heavily, pushing his hair back off his face. “Because I don’t at him to have to live in a hotel until he finds a flat,” he argued. “He’s _safe_ with me; he’s got somewhere to come home to that’s not an empty room.”

Sansa bit her lip. “Yes, but I’m not talking about what’s good for _him_. I’m talking about what’s good for _you_.”

“And I’m fine,” Renly insisted. “I’m still going on dates with Jon after all.” He grinned. “And Loras has found someone too as you’ve no doubt already read, seeing as you’re here harassing me.”

Sansa had it in her to giggle. “I know,” she said, hushing her voice and leaning forward. “I did read that. I refuse to actually _believe_ it though. I mean, what does Loras even see in Guyard anyway?”

Renly rolled his eyes. Coming from Sansa, that surprised him. “I seem to remember you and Jeyne were the ones who pushed me into going on a date with Guyard in the first place, so you tell me. I think you called him a 'hot date' at the time.”

“Well yes,” Sansa admitted. “But that was before I heard him at that pub.”

“Which is presumably something Loras hasn’t had the pleasure of experiencing yet,” Renly laughed. “So I suppose where we see someone who’s rather cringe-worthy, Loras merely sees someone who’s kind to him and who flatters his ego with his endless complements.”

“I guess,” Sansa agreed, getting herself comfortable on the edge of the desk again. She looked a little suspicious. “But you’re handling this awfully well. You almost threw a fit when Guyard spoke to Loras on Friday.”

Rely shrugged. He had done and he wasn’t proud of it. “I’m sober now,” he said simply. And their romance won’t last long, he thought privately to himself. _That_ , he thought, was the main reason that he was dealing well with it.

He scratched his head. “Anyway,” he laughed, “moving on from Loras, what was it that you actually wanted to see me about yesterday?”

“Oh yes.” A very wide smile came to her face and she clapped her hands together in delight. “I came to tell you that I’ve been booked for London Fashion Week.” And with that, she launched into a very long description of exactly what she would be doing and when she would be doing it, her anger over Loras apparently forgotten.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa left shortly before midday, having exhausted every detail about Fashion Week that she knew, and for the first time in years perhaps, Renly opted to go home for lunch after she had gone. It was a good fifteen minute cab ride there and back, and he’d probably have to work later to make up for taking a rather extended lunch break, but he imagined that Loras would probably appreciate the company. Renly had little doubt after all that Loras would be less than impressed by Baelish’s coverage of his and Guyard’s date last night.

He made it in good time to his flat, and once the taxi had dropped him off on the corner, he hurried to his door through the bitter cold, wishing he’d worn more clothes. He was pleased to find that the door wasn’t double locked- a sure indicator that Loras was in fact in, and he was even more pleased to discover that either he or Loras had left the heating on that morning. The warmth washed over him like a wave as soon as he stepped inside, and Renly stripped off his layers gratefully, feeling a little like an icicle melting as his fingers and nose thawed.

He found Loras in the living room. He was sat on the sofa with his back to him, headphones jammed in his ears. He evidently didn’t hear Renly approach and Renly had to whistle when he saw what Loras was browsing through. It was certainly no amateur stuff; the high resolution was evident even from the small screenshots that Loras was scrolling through. Amused, Renly had to wonder how much Loras paid for it per month.

“Really Loras?” Renly laughed, raising an eyebrow and leaning forward to peer over his shoulder.

Loras almost jumped a foot in the air. He slammed the laptop lid down and when he turned, he had a scowl on his face. “What?” he hissed. “You know, Ren, regardless of what everyone seems to think, I’m a sexual being like everyone else. I have needs too.”

Renly sighed, placing both his hands on the back of the sofa. “I don’t doubt that you have needs, Loras,” he told him. “I just meant to tease you for the fact that you pay for the fancy stuff instead of just browsing youporn like the rest of us.”

“Oh.” Loras’ ears turned faintly pink. He’d apparently only got as far as undoing the button on his jeans and he did it back up now.

Renly ruffled his hair. “I don’t think you’re weird for watching porn, Loras.” As far as he knew, all guys did. He’d never imagined that Loras would be any exception.

Loras said nothing though. The tips of his ears were still pink and he was chewing his lip.

“So….” Renly chuckled, going round to sit next to him and trying to break the ice that had formed between them. “What’s the fancy stuff like? Maybe I should invest.”

Loras shrugged. “It’s all right I guess,” he mumbled. “What I subscribe to would probably be too tame for you though.”

Renly bit back a sigh. He wondered if Loras had spent the morning reading the many articles that had dragged the very critical comments made by that DJ back up. “Loras,” he urged. “You know there’s nothing _wrong_ with being tame right?”

Loras shrugged, getting to his feet. “You’re wrong,” he said. “Nobody _wants_ to be tame. There’s everything wrong with it nowadays.”

Taking his laptop door with him, he shut the living room door behind him, leaving Renly sat on the sofa.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a quarter of an hour later that Loras came back, by which point Renly had put the TV on and had forgotten all notion of getting back to work.

“Hey,” he said as he pushed the door open, and Renly saw that he had two plates of cheese on toast on a tray. “Peace offering?”

Renly laughed, patting the cushion next to him. “Well I hope you washed your hands,” he grinned. “I’m under no illusion as to what you’ve spent the last ten minutes doing.”

Loras rolled his eyes as he took a seat, balancing the tray on Renly’s knees. “Actually,” he said dryly. “I spent the last five minutes at least making this. And yes I did wash my hands.” He took one of the plates and placed it in his lap. “Figured you’d need lunch.”

Renly took it gratefully. He very much appreciated the effort even if it was only cheese on toast. “I’m impressed,” he laughed, inspecting his own plate. “It’s not even burnt. Perhaps you could go on Masterchef after all.”

“Well I watched it very carefully,” Loras told him, tucking his knees up underneath him as he blew on his slice to get it to cool down. “And I’m sorry I snapped earlier. I was in a bad mood.”

“I could tell,” Renly laughed. “I imagine you’re feeling a lot better now?” He couldn’t resist winking, nudging Loras. He reckoned there was nothing that improved a guy’s mood more quickly than a decent online video and ten minutes shut up in a bedroom.

Loras’ cheeks turned a little rosy. “Renly,” he all but bleated. “Can we leave me alone now? In all the seven months we dated, you never come home for lunch from work. Not once. How was I supposed to know you would today.”

“So you thought you’d just ruin my lovely cream sofa whilst I wasn’t here,” Renly grinned.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Yeah this lovely cream sofa which still has wine and chocolate stains all over it. I had tissues you know.” He bit into his slice of cheese on toast. “But can we change the subject now?”

“Sure we can,” Renly smiled. He picked up his own slice of cheese and toast and found that it was actually very decent. “You know, Loras. This isn’t half bad. How did you know I like ridiculous amounts of butter underneath the cheese?”

Loras made a face. “With you, it’s just best to go with the option that has the most calories.”

Renly grinned and demolished the rest of his slice with a couple of well-placed bites. He had nothing to disagree with there.

“So,” Renly murmured, shuffling closer to Loras on the sofa and slinging an arm around his shoulder. “What’s the reason for the bad mood?” He already had an inkling but he wanted Loras to confirm it.

Loras closed his eyes, leaning into Renly heavily. “I’m just stressing out about how on earth so many details about my date last night got to press so quickly,” he sighed. “It’s not normal. Not that much detail. Unless he went to the bloody press himself.”

“Ah,” Renly said. He felt a little guilty now for not having warned Loras. “Well I can help you with that,” he admitted. “Guyard, you see, works on the second fl-”

“And?” Loras interrupted, turning to him. “What of it?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I was getting to that part,” he said, hitting Loras softly over the head with his hand. “One of Petyr Baelish’ freelance journalists works on that floor too. In marketing.”

“Oh.” Loras frowned. It took him a few moments to process that. “And that um… _piece of paper_ he got hold of? Was that her too?”

Renly winced. That still made him feel like a terrible human being. “Yeah,” he sighed, “that was her too. The only problem is that we can’t fire her because she hasn’t technically violated any laws or any of our regulations.”

Loras nodded, shifting position on the sofa and stretching his legs. “Guess I’d better get used to it then,” he mumbled.

Renly shrugged. He realised only then that a small part of him had been holding out for Loras to say that he’d better ditch Guyard. “I suppose,” he agreed. He paused. “If it makes you feel better, I hated those articles too. I’m in trouble with Sansa, you see. She read that we’re allegedly ‘living together’.”  


Loras exhaled loudly. “Tough luck,” he conceded, taking the plates off both of their laps and stacking them on the coffee table.

“But she’s apparently been booked for London Fashion Week,” Renly laughed. “So she was in a good enough mood that I didn’t get it _too_ badly.”

“Who she been booked by?” Loras asked. He sounded a little disinterested, and Renly wondered if this was because he hadn’t forgotten Sansa’s part in the list writing or merely because being booked for fashion weeks was alike to an everyday occurrence in Loras’ books.

“A guy called Emilio de la Morena,” Renly told him. “Spanish guy but based in London.”

“Yeah I know who he is,” Loras yawned. “She’ll look good in him. The shapes are reasonably classic, quite figure hugging. Probably why he chose her, because she’s not a complete waif.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. “She’s really looking forward to it.” That was an understatement; she’d spent an hour telling him how delighted she was.

Loras paused. “I saw her you know. Once, at a show.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Did you?” he laughed. “In New York by any chance?”

Loras scratched his head, pushing his curls out of his eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed, “in New York. She was walking for some London girl, can’t remember who. She looked good actually, a bit wobbly in places, but pretty decent.”

Sansa, Renly thought, would die of joy if she’d heard Loras say that. “So why didn’t you go speak to her?” he asked.

“Didn’t want to,” Loras sighed. “I was high as fuck and she reminded me too much of you.”

Renly was silent for a few moments. “She’s have liked to see you, you know,” he murmured. “She was really fond of you back in the day. You should have gone up to her.”

Loras shrugged. “Well there’s a lot of things I should have done back then,” he said with a yawn.

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. He glanced at his watch. “Talking of things one should or should not do,” he groaned. “I should be heading back to work soon.”

Loras looked a little disappointed but he nodded all the same and got to his feet. “Before you go,” he asked. “Can I borrow one of your jumpers? I need to go back home at some point for some more clothes.”

Renly laughed. That, he supposed, explained the reason why the heating was up so high and Loras was in a t-shirt. “You know, Loras, you are _allowed_ to use the washing machine.”

Loras winced. “Yeah…” he said doubtfully, “I could.” He stretched, arms behind his head. “Or I could just borrow off you until I can go home and get more.”

Renly rolled his eyes. At some point, he knew, Loras would indeed resort to using the washing machine. It was something that he knew Loras was rather rubbish at though. He’d always had a tendency of ruining his very expensive clothes and Renly had always thought it rather a shame.

“Sure,” he laughed. “Borrow what you like.”

Loras smiled at that and disappeared up the stairs. He was back in a little less than five minutes, just as Renly was putting his shoes back on. He was in a dark grey jumper, one which Renly only recognised after staring at it for a good few moments.

“This one actually fits,” Loras told him, taking a seat on the stairs. “Either it’s shrunk in the wash or I’ve put on more weight than I thought.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed, straightening his tie in the hall mirror as he tried to hide his amusement. He reckoned he’d wait until he was in the taxi to text Satin and tell him that he’d left one of his jumpers in his wardrobe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you that were asking, I got round to watching Copenhagen the other day and I'd really recommend it! Unless you're canadian of course and you don't think you would enjoy the sometimes very strange version of your accent....


	67. Chapter 67

“I hate this day,” Renly mumbled under his breath as he chucked the last of the anonymous cards that had been placed on his desk this year into the waste-paper bin. This year’s count was twenty six. “I really do hate it.”

Sansa smiled. “You say that every year,” she sighed dreamily, “and yet we all know that it flatters your ego despite what you say.” She was cradling a small teddy bear to her chest, a pink one that was complete with a Cupid’s bow and arrow and a miniature plushy heart. On her lap was a box of chocolates, also in the shape of a heart, and complete with a pink satin ribbon.

“Did Sandor go out and get all that himself?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she said gleefully, stroking its ears fondly, “though I had to prompt him several times.” She plucked a chocolate from the box and ate it thoughtfully. “He really did very well. You know, Gendry only got Arya a pair of socks.”

Renly nodded along absent-mindedly. He was still caught up in imagining Sandor Clegane going out Valentine’s Day shopping. He supposed it said a lot about how wrapped around her finger she had him, something which was unsurprising considering how much he was punching above his weight with Sansa.

“It’s just such a shame,” Sansa sighed wistfully when it was clear Renly wasn’t going to comment on Gendry’s offering of socks. “The fittings for London Fashion Week are tonight. I’d got plans for a candlelit dinner and everything.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Fancy swapping?” he laughed. “You can go for dinner with Jon and I’ll go and get fitted for your dresses.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Stop being so ungrateful,” she said. She folded her arms, meaning business. “Now where is he taking you? It had better be somewhere nice.”

“We’re going to Cambridge,” Renly told her. “To his old college. They’re doing a special Valentine’s dinner for old members.” He made a face. “Sounds rather grim if you ask me. They’ll be loads of couples making out over the port and cheeseboard.”

“It’ll be nice,” Sansa insisted. “Stop being a spoilsport.” She poked him in the chest with a rolled up piece of paper that she was supposed to be drafting a letter on. “Surely you celebrated the day with Loras back in the day and enjoyed it?”

Renly shrugged. “Probably,” he admitted. “I remember buying him chocolates that he never ate but I don’t remember what we did.”

“Well I bet Loras remembers,” Sansa chastised. “It was probably a really special day to him, like it is to most _normal_ people.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.” He suspected she was right though. Loras, he imagined, would probably remember what they’d done very well. He was a hopeless romantic at heart after all.

“Talking of Loras,” Sansa added sternly. “When is he getting his own place?”

Renly ignored the judgement in her tone. “We’re checking out another flat this weekend,” he told her glumly. In all honesty, he wasn’t particularly looking forward to Loras vacating his spare room. He liked the company.

“Good. What’s he doing tonight then?”

“Lunch,” Renly said simply. “With Guyard.” He looked at his watch. “Though they’ll probably be long done by now.” He chuckled to himself, recalling a conversation he and Loras had had yesterday. “He didn’t want to do dinner you see. He was terrified that Guyard might do the whole inviting him back to candles and a bubble bath thing if he allowed him to see him in the evening, possibly with an extra sprinkling of rose petals on the side.”

“Fair enough,” Sansa giggled. “He probably would. Jeyne says Guyard is real romantic.”

Renly grimaced. “How lovely for Loras…”

“But you always say Loras is a soppy romantic at heart?” Sansa questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

“He is,” Renly agreed. “But I reckon there’s only room for one hopeless romantic in a relationship. Any anyway, Loras keeps that side of him, um, much more _hidden away_ than Guyard does.”

“Fair enough,” Sansa laughed, swishing her hair idly. “So are you and Jon doing the whole romantic sex with candles and bubble bath thing?”

“Just the sex thing hopefully,” Renly said. In his opinion it was way too early any kind of candles. “We’re getting a hotel in Cambridge. Because we’ll sure as hell both need a drink to get us through the horror that will be a couples only dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

Sansa narrowed her eyes at him. “You will _enjoy_ it,” she said, punctuating every word slowly. She paused, a wide smile brightening her face. “Won’t this be the first time you guys have sex! How romantic is that?”

“Yeah,” Renly told her grudgingly. He wanted to point out that the date was quite a coincidence, that it was only because they would be forced to stay in a hotel that sex would be practically guaranteed, but he held his tongue. “This is my personal record actually,” he added a little proudly, “for the amount of dates I’ve been on with someone before sleeping with them.”

“Which is like _three?_ ” Sansa said, fondly but a little scathingly.

“Six actually,” Renly told her smugly. “It was the fourth date with Satin, the fifth with Loras, and the first with pretty much every guy before them. Waiting until the sixth date is a new height of patience for me.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. She evidently thought very little of the usual lengths of Renly’s courting period. ““Do you think he’ll be worth waiting for?” she asked. She popped enough heart-shaped chocolate into her mouth and passed one to Renly. “I bet he will be. Older men are always better in bed.”

Renly reckoned she was speaking from experience and he didn’t particularly want to ask. “Mmm,” he agreed, not trying to dwell on Sandor’s massive penis as he bit into chocolate Sansa had given him, the strawberry filling very sickly sweet.

“I’ll bet he’ll be experienced,” Sansa continued, gushing a little. “I bet he’ll be the best you’ve ever had what with all the practice he must have had over the years.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Nah,” he said, reaching for another chocolate. “Satin will forever reign supreme there I reckon. He was just too good to be true.”

“-speaking of things too good to be true…” Jaime’s voice startled them both and Renly dropped the chocolate he was holding.

“Don’t do that,” Renly laughed, fishing the chocolate out of the drawer where it had fallen. “I hate it when you creep up on us like that.”

Jaime just smirked and set his laptop down on the table, his blond hair flopping over one eye. “Here,” he said. “I’ve got a really funny video to show you both.”

Renly couldn’t drum up too much enthusiasm. He remembered the last ‘funny’ video Jaime had showed him. It had involved Loras trying to jerk himself off when he wasn’t even hard.

“And don’t worry,” Jaime grinned, as if he could read Renly’s mind. “This one’s _actually_ funny.” He pointed to the top of the article. “Start here and then scroll down to the video.”

 _Loras Tyrell SERENADED by new partner at London restaurant. Guyard Morrigen, an aspiring singer-songwriter, performed a rendition of Frank Senatra’s_ I love you baby _at up-and-coming venue_ Charlotte’s Bistro _in Chiswick. A fellow diner managed to catch it on camera._

“Oh wow…” Renly ran a hand through his hair, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face. Jaime was right; he reckoned he’d find this one _actually_ funny.

“You have to watch it,” Jaime insisted. “ _His face_ the whole way through it.”

Renly clicked play a little gleefully. Unfortunately the filmer hadn’t managed to get the very beginning, for Guyard had already started his song, a cheeky smile on his face as if he perhaps knew how ridiculous he was being. Loras evidently still hadn’t recovered from the shock of it. He looked a little baffled, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Guyard, meanwhile, was being egged on by the rest of the restaurant. There were many wolf-whistles and much clapping, accompanied all the while by laughter. Renly couldn’t help joining in. He felt sorry for Loras, but not _that_ sorry for him. Undeniably cringe-worthy as it was, he had to think too that Guyard sounded a little better than the last time he’d heard him. The fact that he didn’t have his rather out of tune guitar to hand probably helped.

“I’ve got to hand it to that ex of yours,” Jaime choked out through laughter. “He’s bloody good at keeping a straight face.”

Renly just grinned and agreed. Loras may have been reasonably good at keeping a straight face but Renly could still read what he was thinking like an open book.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras wasn’t anywhere to be seen when Renly came home. Usually, he waited for Renly in the living room or in the kitchen but both were empty. Renly wondered if he’d perhaps crawled away into a hole somewhere to die of his embarrassment.

“Hello?” he called, his voice echoing up the stairs.

There was a moment’s silence. “I’m upstairs,” Loras then yelled back. “Come in if you like.”

Renly grinned and headed up the stairs. “Just give me a sec,” he called. “Need to choose a song to make my entrance to.”

“Don’t you dare!” Loras’ voice was muffled, as if he’d perhaps tried to suffocate himself under his duvet.

Renly chuckled as he came up the stairs and pushed open the door to find out he was right. Loras was in bed, on his front with both pillows over his head. “So…” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe. “How embarrassed are you?”

“I don’t even have words,” Loras groaned from underneath the many pillows.

Renly just grinned. He sat down cross-legged on the end of Loras’ bed. “Well aren’t you going to at least _emerge_ to talk to me?”

Loras duly emerged, his curls in disarray across his face. “You know what?” he said, a pink tinge across his famous cheekbones.

“What?” Renly laughed. Loras was in Satin’s jumper again but Renly reckoned now wasn’t the moment to tell him that.

“Some idiot’s gone and raised the possibility of a record contract with Guyard apparently. He just texted me now and I had to pretend to be happy about this.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Well good on him I suppose. He’s probably equally as talented as some artists nowadays.”

“Mmm,” Loras agreed. He sat up against the headboard, hugging one of his pillows to his chest.

“I’m almost jealous,” Renly grinned. “When I went on a date with Guyard, all I got was some lousy ballad dedicated to me. I wasn’t exactly _serenaded_.”

Loras screwed up his face. “Don’t…” he laughed, choking a little.

Renly’s grin only widened. “Are you going to see him again then?” he asked. “Or is the embarrassment too much for you?”

“I don’t know,” Loras sighed. He tucked the front locks of his hair behind his ears. “Now can we please change the subject now?”

“Sure we can,” Renly smiled. “What would you like to change the subject to then?”

Loras shrugged, undoing with one jerky motion the attempt he’d made at taming his curls. “You out with that guy of yours tonight?” he asked. He must have been desperate after all; it was very rare that he brought up Jon.

“Yeah,” Renly told him. “We’re off to Cambridge remember, to socialise with all old chums and their wives.” He repressed a small shudder. “About this evening, Loras. We’re getting a hotel so you’ll be by yourself here tonight. That ok?”

If the thought of Renly sharing a hotel room with another man made Loras jealous, he didn’t show it. “It’s fine,” he said.

Renly nodded slowly. Despite Loras’ answer, he felt a little bad for leaving him alone. Not in all the time they had known each other had Loras spent a night here by himself. “Remember to bolt the door before you go to bed okay,” Renly told him. “And I’ll leave the code so that you can set the burglar alarm if you like.”

Loras cocked an eyebrow that was only half visible through his hair. “You have a burglar alarm?” he asked.

Renly grinned a little sheepishly. “Yeah…” He unfolded his legs and stretched them out alongside the outline of Loras’ under the covers. “Not that I use it very often. Used to set it off too many times when I came back drunk.” He smiled briefly at the fond memories. “But if you wanted to put it on tonight, feel free. And remember to make sure the back door is locked and bolted too.”

Loras raised his other eyebrow now. “ _Renly_ ,” he said firmly. “Have you actually _been_ in your garden since you turned these flats back into a house?”

“I’ve had a bit of a nose around,” Renly lied nonchalantly. Truth be told, he’d opened the door a couple of times to peer outside. The garden was an absolute state of weeds and overgrown bushes that he had no time or energy to fix.

Loras laughed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be sure to make sure the back door that you ever use is locked.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You _sure_ you going to be okay here by yourself?” he asked. He couldn’t help thinking of how poorly Loras had coped in his Park Lane flat by himself. He knew too how badly Loras slept. Indeed, Loras had probably spent a good three nights out of the last seven in Renly’s own bed next to him, wide awake enough to seek out even the poor company that Renly offered when he was half asleep.

“I’ll be fine,” Loras told him though, arms folded across the pillow that was hugged to his chest. He looked like he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Renly nodded. “And I’ve left several ready meals in the fridge if you don’t feel like proper cooking.”

“Yes, Renly.”

Renly ignored Loras’ evident exasperation. “Well don’t hesitate to phone me if you need anything okay? Or if you can’t sleep or something.”

“I’ll be fine,” Loras repeated. “I’m not going to bloody phone you while you’re out with your boyfriend for Valentine’s Day because I can’t _sleep_. “ He pulled back the covers. “Now come on, help me forget about this afternoon and let me choose what you’re going to wear tonight. Might as well look good for all the posh cunts.”

 

* * *

 

 

Renly felt a little bad when he realised that the clothes Loras had carefully chosen for him were now screwed up on his hotel room floor, mingled in amongst Jon’s. He stifled a laugh though, thinking of how ludicrous it would have been to insist on hanging his lovely grey suit up in the wardrobe before progressing any further. He reckoned even Jon and all his middle-aged composure would have been a little insulted.

Jon was already asleep next to him and Renly sighed heavily, pushing his tangled hair out of his eyes as he stared down at his sleeping form. He wondered vaguely if this was what lay in wait for him- whether he’d finding himself dropping off after sex once the years had started to creep up on him. He liked to think not and yet he wasn’t too hopeful. Most old men invariably slept after sex, Renly was led to believe.

In the grand scheme of things though, Jon wasn’t _old_ , Renly supposed. He would turn forty in March, and it was hardly over the hill in this day and age. It was only a twelve year age gap and yet the differences between them were certainly noticeable. Some of them were good, Renly supposed; Jon had certainly lasted longer than Renly usually did. On the other hand though, he’d been almost infuriatingly patient in the run up to getting into bed, even his chest hair was prematurely peppered with grey, and he was happily snoring away now whereas Renly would really have rather had another round.

He _was_ good though, Renly had to admit. _Technically_. He was skilled at what he did and he evidently knew his way around a man’s body very well. Satin at twenty-three would still put him in the shade, Renly reckoned, but only just. Jon had been thorough, attentive, generous, and he’d taken direction without taking it as a criticism, being vocal too about what he himself wanted.

That said, he wasn’t as good to _look at_ as his previous boyfriends had been, Renly had to think as he looked down at him in the dimmed lights. For all Loras’ shortcomings in bed, he’d been strong on the eye-candy front and he’d looked almost like a god when Renly had fucked him, lying beneath him with his silky hair fanned out across the pillow.

Pushing that thought to the back of his mind, Renly stretched out across the sheets. He didn’t feel ready to go to sleep and silently, he got out of bed and slipped his boxers back on. It was half past midnight according to the clock on the wall and Renly wandered out absent-mindedly onto the balcony, the chill biting his skin.

The cobbled Cambridge street below was empty, with nobody even to people-watch, and Renly found his mind drifting slowly back to Loras all the way back in London. Despite all Loras’ assurances earlier, he _did_ worry about leaving him at home by himself, despite the fact that there was nothing to rationally be worried _about_ , and part of Renly contemplated finding his phone to call him, to see if he was all right.

He resisted for five minutes before he popped back inside for his phone, grabbing a blanket to wrap around him too.

Loras answered on the fourth ring. “What’s up?” he said. He sounded bemused.

“Just phoning to see how you are,” Renly laughed, leaning his forearms against the cold metal of the balcony.

“You’re not checking up on me are you?” Loras sounded put out.

“Perhaps…” Renly didn’t bother denying it.

Loras huffed loudly. “Well next time hire a baby-sitter,” he said dryly.

Renly smiled. “You gone to bed yet?”

“Ish. Watching TV in bed.” He paused. “I skyped Margaery earlier though.” He said it casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal that he was on speaking terms with his sister again.

“Oh,” Renly murmured, staring out vacantly at the street below him. “That’s nice. Have the two of you made up then?” He didn’t like to think of what sort of things Margaery had had to say. He was well aware that Loras’ sister disapproved of the fact they were still close.

Loras was quiet for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said. “She wanted to come with me to see that flat on Saturday, but I told her I’d promised you. We’re going to go for coffee instead at her place.”

Renly bit back a sigh. “You know you can take Margaery to see that flat with you if you like. I won’t mind.” When it came to Margaery, it was always tempting to try and fight her for Loras’ time and attention, but Renly didn’t think him and Margaery playing tug of war with Loras was for the best.

Loras laughed softly though. “I know you wouldn’t mind if I took her. But she’ll be biased. She wants me to move out of yours too much.” He sighed heavily. “But anyway, enough about that. What are you doing calling me? Where’s your date?”

Renly chewed his lip contemplatively for a moment. He didn’t want to admit that he was phoning him post-sex; it would make things weird. “He’s still catching up with some old friends in the college bar,” he said. To be fair, that had been true an hour ago. It just wasn’t true _now_.

Loras apparently wasn’t suspicious. “Cool,” he offered. “Good time?” He didn’t sound particularly interested, and to be fair, he probably wasn’t.

“Yeah,” Renly sighed, scratching his head. “Nostalgic. Takes me back to my student days. I forget that it used to be normal to sit in a gown and be served dinner whilst some twit says grace in Latin.”

“Sounds very twee,” Loras laughed.

“Oh it is,” Renly agreed.

“But fun probably right?”

“Oh yeah,” Renly smiled. “Great fun.” He sighed fondly, leaning out over the balcony again to watch a drunk student stumble across the road. His gown was hanging precariously from his shoulders and he had a half empty bottle of wine in his hand. The sight reminded him of his own days as a student and he felt a sudden wave of nostalgia.

“I should have taken you here some time really,” he murmured.

On the other end of the phone though, Loras merely snorted. “What would I have to talk about with a bunch of academics, Ren?” he asked.

Renly rolled his eyes. The nostalgia had gone now; it had disappeared in a puff of smoke. “You’d have lots to talk about,” he protested, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “You’ve had a very interesting life you know, Loras, what with the whole being on the cover of Vogue thing.”

Loras didn’t sound impressed. “Yeah but what do I have in common with all those scholars?” he asked. “I’d fit in like a sore thumb.”

Renly just laughed. “Stop playing edgy with me,” he warned, amused. “It never works. You’re probably acquainted with silver service and posh talk from birth. I bet half your father’s friends are old Oxbridge boys.”

“My father went to St Andrew’s actually.”

It was Renly’s turn to scoff. “Which is just as posh as either Oxford or Cambridge,” he pointed out.

“Fine,” Loras admitted. “I’d probably have coped.” He paused, his breathing not even audible. “Kinda irrelevant now though.”

“Mmm,” Renly hummed. He looked back through the glass doors to Jon’s sleeping form. He supposed that it was indeed irrelevant. For the moment at least.


	68. Chapter 68

Renly had set his alarm early for the day that Sansa was due to walk in London Fashion Week. Not because he was going to watch her- it had been far too late notice for him to get tickets, but because he knew that she would be disappointed if he slept through all her early morning messages of excitement.

Indeed, rolling over and glancing at his phone, Renly was unsurprised to see that he already had several Snapchats from her, most of which featured very skimpy clothes in plastic wrap hanging from a rail.

He was also unsurprised to see he had company. Renly didn’t remember Loras coming into his room last night like he often had that week, but he was there now, tucked up under the covers on the other side of the bed from Renly. The alarm seemed to have half woken him and he stretched out slightly under the covers as Renly watched him, eyelids fluttering as if he were deciding whether he could find the get-up-and-go to open his eyes.

Renly let him be, climbing out of bed wearily to get himself ready for work. It was better, he thought, that he showered and dressed whilst Loras still slept. It was bad enough that Loras sometimes used to come and sleep in his room, but parading around wet and half-naked in front of him was probably worse still. With that in mind thus, Renly took his suit into the bathroom with him for a change. Loras might well have appreciated him padding around his room wet and naked but it was a treat that Renly thought he’d best deny him.

It was only when he was showered and fully dressed that Renly sat down on the edge of his bed to peer at him. Quite honestly, if he were being unkind, Loras looked tired. His face was pale and a little drawn, and he had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept at all.

Renly felt sorry for him and he touched a hand briefly to his hair. “I’m going to get some breakfast,” he told him softly. “You want anything?”

Loras stretched out properly this time and Renly smiled. He loved men in general when they were sleepy and Loras always seemed particularly adorable. He was nothing but a bundle of half-asleep curls and long limbs.

He squinted up at Renly when he opened his eyes, blinking a few times. “Isn’t it Friday today?” he murmured.

“Yes,” Renly laughed. “ _And_ …?”

“Well why are you dressed for work?” he asked.

“Because it’s _Friday_ ,” Renly repeated slowly. “And I’m _going_ to work.”

Loras yawned loudly. “But Sansa’s walking today isn’t she? Aren’t you going to go and watch her?” He rolled over properly onto his side.

Renly laughed. “She only got told she was doing it like a week and a half ago. Way too late to get a ticket. Those things sell out like gold dust.”

Loras shrugged. “You should have said. I could have got you one.”

Renly hadn’t thought of that and he wanted to punch himself. He knew Sansa was disappointed that he wasn’t coming and yet it had never occurred to him to call in a favour with Loras.

Loras glanced at the clock on Renly’s bedside table. “I could _still_ probably get you one if you wanted to go?”

Renly almost leapt for joy. “Really?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “I imagine so.” He sat up and stretched again, hair falling over his face in a surprisingly elegant tumble. “Let me just make some calls.” He’d evidently put his phone on the bedside table and he picked it up now.

Renly left him to it, heading downstairs in search of some food. He knew he’d just hover impatiently if he stood and watched, going over in his head how he was going to call in sick. Stannis was notoriously suspicious about employees that claimed to be ill, and Renly couldn’t decide whether it was safer to email- naturally suspicious but easier, or to call in and fake some sort of contagious disease.

Loras had never given him an answer as to whether he wanted breakfast and so Renly made him some anyway, putting four slices of bread in the toaster instead of three. He even made him a hot chocolate, knowing that Loras liked them.

Indeed, Loras accepted it gladly when Renly came in with a tray, wrapping his hands around the mug before taking a sip. “Some guy’s going to meet you out front,” he said. Putting the mug on the bedside table, he handed Renly a number scribbled down on a post-it note. “If you just text him when you get there, he’ll show you to your seats. I got you two.”

Renly frowned, perching back on the bed to eat his toast. “Surely you mean to say _us_?” he clarified. “You got _us_ two seats right?”

“Nah.” Loras seemed to know that the plate with the solitary piece of toast was for him and he took it, yawning again. “Take whoever you like.”

“Don’t you want to come?”

Loras snorted. “Not particularly.”

Renly swallowed his mouthful of toast and jam with difficulty. “Why the disdain?” he laughed.

Loras shrugged. “Because I’m tired,” he said bluntly. “And because everyone backstage will be doing coke and everyone out front will be coming up to me to tell me how *inspiring it is that I’ve put coke behind me.”

“Fair enough,” Renly agreed. He bent to give Loras a one-sided hug. “Well I am forever indebted to you.”

“Well you’d better save the gratitude for later,” Loras said dryly. “Emilio de la Moreno is showing in the morning so you’d better get yourself changed and en route soon-ish if you want to catch Sansa before she starts getting ready and everything.”

Renly brought up google on his phone and punched in the designer’s name. “Yeah it says ten here,” he said. It would take him barely fifteen minutes to get a cab over to Somerset house so he had time, but certainly not too much time to lounge around.

“If it says ten, she’ll be on at like half past,” Loras said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen as fashion show run to time.” He licked a stray piece of jam off his fingers. “So you’ll be fine.”

Renly smiled blankly at him. He’d not even heard that last part; he’d been far too preoccupied watching Loras put his fingers in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly didn’t know if Jon had _actually_ enjoyed the day, but he’d given a good appearance of it. He clearly knew nothing about fashion but had been pleased enough when Renly had asked him along to take the spare ticket. And it had certainly made Sansa happy too, Renly mused. She’d seemed more delighted to see that he’d brought Jon with him than she’d been when Renly had shown up to find her that morning. She’d all but cooed when Renly had introduced the pair of them, telling Jon all sorts of lies about what wonderful things Renly had told her about him.

At the end of the day and after having successfully done all her walks, she was even more bouncy. Or as bouncy as she could be whilst still having her feet in very painful heels.

“You brought Jon,” she said, catching Renly alone while Jon phoned for a cab home. “You brought Jon.”

“Yes,” Renly told her dryly, running a hand idly through his hair. “I did. Is that a big deal?” He almost regretted it now. He’d had a decent enough time with Jon and yet it wasn’t worth having to sit through Sansa’s excitement on his behalf.

“Of course it’s a big deal!” she told him. “Are you a proper couple now then?”

Renly shrugged. “I suppose so. I haven’t asked.”

“ _Men_ ,” Sansa muttered under her breath. Her condescension was short lived though for the smile was soon back on her face. “I’m so glad you came, Renly,” she said, looking up at him earnestly. “I just knew you’d surprise me like this. I knew that you’d have secretly got hold of a ticket somehow.”

Renly laughed a little guiltily. “Well actually Sansa, I really _couldn’t_ get tickets. Loras got me a pair this morning.” He ignored the little rise of pride that brought to his chest; it was easy at these sorts of events to feel special purely because he knew someone that qualified as fashion royalty.

“Loras didn’t want to come?” Sansa asked.

“Nah,” Renly sighed, failing at keeping the disappointment out of his voice. “Said there’d be too many drugs and that he was tired. Think he had a bit of a sleepless night.”

Sansa nodded, thoughtful. “I suppose this marks a year that he’s been clean, doesn’t it?”

Renly hadn’t realised that. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, lost in thought. “I suppose it does.” He wondered if Loras would want to celebrate that, or if he’d just plod steadily on without ceremony. Strangely though, it seemed longer than a year ago that he’d interrupted his second date with Satin to pick Loras up from hospital. So much had changed since then.

“This is where we met too,” he sighed, talking mainly to himself. “God, it’s been two and a half years.” Again, it felt like much longer though and Renly tried to cast his mind back to a time where he hadn’t known Loras, where Loras had merely been a picture in one of Sansa’s magazines that he’d admire before turning the page over.

He was still deep in thought when Jon came up behind him and took his hand. “Taxi’s here,” he said.

“Great.” Renly snapped out of his daydreams and gave Sansa a quick hug. “Catch you later then, Sansa if that’s okay?”

She smiled and waved them off far too enthusiastically.

Renly ignored her staunchly and followed Jon outside. It was a big relief to sit down in the cab. Even though Loras had got them seats, it seemed like he’d been on his feet all day. Gratefully, he stretched his legs out.

“I was thinking,” Jon said as the driver pulled away, weaving through lanes in the traffic. “Maybe you could show me your place before I head home and we have some tea or something. We’re not far are we?”

“No…” Renly said slowly. He tried to think of the worst thing that could plausibly happen if he brought Jon home for a cup of tea and decided that it was just Loras being a bit rude. “That’s fine,” he agreed, “but I should probably tell you that my ex is currently staying with me. Just a heads up.”

Jon frowned, his forehead wrinkling more than it usually did. “You live with your ex? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Renly laughed. He was unsurprised by Jon’s tone. “Well he’s only staying until he finds a flat. And don’t worry, we haven’t dated for years now. Literally years.”

“And you’re just good friends now?”

“Well yeah,” Renly laughed. “Course we are.” He wasn’t going to mention the fact that he and Loras had had sex in the last six months and that he’d woken up beside him this morning. He thought it for the best that he kept his mouth shut for once.

“Okay.” Jon nodded wearily. “Anything else to warn me about?”

 _Lots,_ Renly thought privately. “Don’t think so,” he told Jon cheerfully.

Jon took a deep breath and seemed a little calmer. When the cab finally stopped on the corner of Renly’s road though, he got out looking more than a little wary. Quite understandably, he evidently hadn’t been expecting to be introduced to the ex.

Indeed, he seemed to faff around with his coat a lot longer than necessary, and he hung back while Renly went through into the kitchen, following the sound of the radio to locate Loras.

His logic had been sound. Loras was sat at the kitchen table when Renly came in, and thankfully, he wasn’t in his pyjamas or anything. He had his textbook in front of him and was apparently finding it difficult. His forehead was knitted in frustration and he’d chewed the pencil right down to a tiny stump. It was endearing and Renly watched him fondly from the doorway, humming along to the very catchy drivel that Capital FM played.

“You lost again?” Renly asked. Loras’ struggle with maths that he would never use was very familiar to him by now.

Loras evidently hadn’t heard him come in and he startled, rolling his eyes. “Yes,” he said shortly. He put his chewed pencil down. “Good day?”

“Definitely.” Grinning, Renly went to peer over Loras’ shoulder. He was doing fractions and Renly could see immediately where he had gone wrong. “Well,” he said, “You’ve forgotten to simplify it again.”

“I have not,” Loras protested. He picked his pencil back up and started re-examining his working out.

Renly looked again. “Um, yeah you have.”

Loras bit his lip, looking down at his piece of paper once more with narrowed eyes. “Yeah I have,” he agreed as he too spotted the mistake. Tongue between his teeth, he started rubbing all of that question out so that he could start again.

Renly left him to it, returning to see where Jon had got to in the hallway. They met half way, in the kitchen doorway.

Loras hadn’t noticed Jon come in, but Jon looked over at Loras rather suspiciously. His eyes lingered on the book that Loras was working from. GCSE maths, the spine read.

“Um, Renly, how _old_ is your ex-boyfriend?” he whispered.

Renly resisted the urge to laugh. He was quite tempted to tell Jon ‘sixteen’ just to freak him out. “Twenty three.”

Jon looked a little relieved. “Is he, um, slow or something?” he whispered.

“Nah just flunked school on purpose.”

“Right…” Jon seemed a little baffled.

It was then that Loras noticed them and he whipped round, turning down the radio. “Who’s this, Ren?” he asked, a little warily.

“This is Jon,” Renly laughed. “Jon meet Loras.”

Loras’ eyes widened. Renly wasn’t surprised. Loras knew who _Jon_ referred to and he probably hadn’t been expecting him to be so old.

“How do you do?” Jon said pleasantly enough.

“I’m fine thank you.” Seeing Jon in the flesh must have reassured Loras, for he gave a smile that bordered on a smirk. He did shut his textbook rather quickly though, and Renly didn’t fail to notice that he placed it cover-down, so that Jon wouldn’t be able to see what it was. It was too late for that of course, but Renly said nothing. He didn’t want to humiliate Loras, and nor did he want to deter him from preserving with the maths he hated.

“I’m putting the kettle on,” Renly told him cheerfully. “Want anything?”

“I’m fine thanks.”

“Cool, well we’ll be in the living room if you want us.” Flicking the kettle on to boil, Renly led Jon back out of the room, not missing how he immediately seemed more at ease.

 

* * *

 

 

“I feel like I know him from somewhere,” Jon told Renly, stirring his tea idly with a spoon as they sat together in the living room.

Renly resisted the urge to smile. “Well he’s a model,” he told him diplomatically. “You’ve probably seen him in adverts and stuff.”

Jon nodded. “Done well for himself has he?”

Renly did smile this time. “You could say that,” he agreed lightly.

“Good on him I suppose,” Jon said. “It must be hard being a man in fashion. I bet most of the work is for women.”

“Yeah,” Renly agreed, shrugging slightly as he sipped his own coffee. “I think it is. But there’s work there if you’re good.”

“Well he’s certainly very attractive,” Jon agreed.

“Yeah,” Renly agreed. “He is.” He was more than attractive, Renly thought to himself. There was a reason why Loras was probably the only male model to take home earnings that were almost on par with the female supermodels.

Jon took a sip of his coffee. “What did you say his name was again?”

“Loras.”

“Loras…” Jon rolled the name around his mouth and then frowned. “Not Loras as in Loras _Tyrell?_ ”

Renly grinned. He was enjoying this far too much. “Yep,” he said. “That one.”

Jon turned slightly pale. “You just said your ex was a model,” he spluttered, raking both his hands through his peppery-grey hair.

“Well he is,” Renly shrugged.

“Yes but you didn’t tell me he was a _famous_ one.”

Renly laughed, taking pity on him. “He’s still a person like everyone else,” he assured him. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal?” Jon echoed blankly.

Renly sighed heavily. He put his tea back on the coffee table with a dull thump- it had made him feel too much like an adult anyway. “Does him being here make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“Yes,” Jon answered immediately. “Who _wouldn’_ t feel uncomfortable? I was prepared to feel uncomfortable purely because he’s twenty three and gorgeous, and it doesn’t make things easier that I remember Rhaegar’s daughter having a poster of him on her wall when she was younger. He’s like a sex symbol.”

Renly grinned. It was strange now thinking of Loras like that but he supposed that it wasn’t _un-_ true. Despite all the recent allegations, Loras still had an army of girls and women that lusted after him. He still got put in Cosmo’s lists of hot men.

Jon was quiet for a long time. “I want you to be honest with me, Renly,” he said. “Are you sleeping with him?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “No,” he protested.

Jon didn’t seem appeased. “Then what are you doing sharing a flat together?” he asked, dropping his voice as if he’d suddenly remembered Loras was actually in the house. “When you told me that your ex was staying until he found a flat, I assumed he was broke and sponging off you. Surely he could afford to get his own place in a heartbeat? Or get a hotel somewhere?”

Renly sighed. “Well yeah he could,” he admitted. “But we’re friends. I said he could stay until he finds somewhere he liked.”

Jon nodded, gulping. “And what would you say if I asked you to end that arrangement?”

Renly arched his eyebrow further. He didn’t like being told what he could or couldn’t do, and whilst he could have put Jon at ease by reassuring him that he and Loras were seeing a flat tomorrow, he decided not to. It irritated him more than a little bit that a man he’d only been on six dates with was attempting to dictate his lifestyle.

“At this stage,” he said dryly, “I’d say that Loras staying here is part of the package that comes with me and that you’ll have to trust me.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had not forgotten Jon’s objections by the time they went to see Loras’ potential new flat the next morning. If he were quite honest, they had pissed him off more than anything had pissed him off in a long time, even if the rational part of him understood that it was very natural to be wary about the sort of arrangement he and Loras currently had.

Renly buried that rational part of him though, and he couldn’t help but be in a bit of a bad mood as he and Loras showed themselves round the flat. He knew that if Loras moved out now it would look like he’d given into what Jon wanted, and that irritated him almost as much as the actual thought of Loras leaving did.

“It’s a bit pokey,” Renly said, as they walked into the kitchen.

Loras cocked his head, a little baffled. “You think?” he asked, scratching his head.

“Yeah,” Renly said bluntly. “I do. I mean it’s what eight-hundred foot squared?”

“Sixteen-hundred,” Loras corrected him, running his hands over the smooth granite worktops that lined one wall of the kitchen.

“Oh,” Renly muttered. “Deceptively large, I suppose.”

“Mmm,” Loras hummed. He led them through into the living room: a huge spacious room that currently had cream sofas and deep red curtains.

“And there are so many stairs,” Renly added.

Loras frowned. “But we came up in the elevator?”

Renly didn’t even bother to correct him to _lift_. “Yes, but what happens when the elevator breaks down?”

Loras shrugged, biting his lip. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“And who wants to look out over…“ Renly wandered over to the window and pulled up the blinds. “…the river and the Houses of Parliament?”

Loras laughed. “Big Ben would be pretty loud, I guess.”

“Yes,” Renly nodded. “Very loud. Horribly loud actually. It chimes all through the night; it’s not like it shuts up after midnight like any decent clock would.”

Loras raised an eyebrow, joining Renly at the window. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to stay put at yours.”

Renly paused. “Well if you *had* to, I probably wouldn’t complain.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Ren, if you want me to stay for a little while longer, just tell me.” He sat down on one of the cream sofas, arms folded and a smirk on his face.

Renly bit his lip and knew Sansa would kill him. “It would be kind of nice if you stayed, Loras. Just for a little while more maybe.”

Loras just laughed at him. “Fine,” he said.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had left the viewing feeling most satisfied and yet it was with a seed of doubt in his mind that he went to bed. He *liked having Loras here- that was undeniable, but he wasn’t sure if it was *wise. In one swoop, he knew he’d have probably irritated Jon, enraged Margaery, worried Sansa, and confused Loras. It was quite an impressive feat and all the more dangerous now that Loras appeared to be no longer seeing Guyard.

He didn’t sleep well that night, and for once he actually was awake to hear Loras wandering around in the early hours of the morning. Usually, his instinct would have been to go to him, but he forced himself to stay put. If he thought about it sensibly, he could sympathise with Jon for finding Loras’ presence threatening. The least he could do was not cross the line further.

As usual too though, there was a soft knock on his door and it creaked open. “Renly?” Loras breathed.

Renly feigned sleep.

“Renly?” The voice was more imploring this time and Renly didn’t have it in him to ignore him.

“Mmm?” he answered.

“Can I come in?”

Renly sighed heavily. He tried not to notice how tired Loras sounded, or how lovely he looked standing in the doorway with his duvet wrapped around his shoulders.

Go on then,” he murmured eventually. In spite of his better judgement, he couldn’t bring himself to tell him no, not when what Jon didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Loras duly climbed into the opposite side of the bed, layering his duvet over Renly’s.

“Though you know Loras,” Renly breathed, staring at the black ceiling. “This has to stop at some point. Jon won’t like it.”

Loras was silent for a few moments. “That’s really fair enough,” he murmured. The covers rustled again. “I should go back to my room then.”

Renly just sighed. “You’re here now,” he breathed. He drew Loras close, resting his head on top of his sleep-rumpled curls. “Why don’t we turn over that new leaf tomorrow?”


	69. Chapter 69

March 15th 2016

_Inside: Has Loras Tyrell piled on the pounds since Christmas? The supermodel steps out looking distinctly heavier than he was at the height of his career two years ago._

The magazine caught Renly’s eye as soon as he entered Jon’s kitchen. It was lying on one of the counters, next to the wine rack. It was a copy of _Heat_ , not exactly the sort of thing he imagined Jon would usually be caught dead reading, and Renly wondered if he’d bought it because it had a picture of Loras slapped on the front of it.

It was a picture of Loras that Renly had seen four times that day so far, and he had to admit that it was an unusually unflattering one of him. They’d caught him at the wrong angle somehow, and he did look a little on the cuddly side. Renly thought it all a little mean. Personally, he hadn’t noticed Loras gaining all that much weight over the last few weeks but he knew that it would hit Loras hard.

“Renly?”

Renly glanced up at Jon’s voice and realised he’d been staring at the magazine for more than a few moments instead of paying Jon any attention. He smiled sheepishly down at him and couldn’t help but feel a little bad. Not only had Jon provided the venue tonight but he’d also done the cooking. It was an arrangement that had become very familiar over the last few weeks, mainly because Renly refused to let then have sex at his. It was something that irked Jon no end, but something that Renly would not compromise on. He didn’t think Loras would dare complain if they did have rather loud sex in the room next door to him, but Renly had no doubt in his mind that it would make him more than a little uncomfortable.

“About him,” Jon said tentatively, pointing at the magazine. “ _Loras_ , I mean. Have you guys, um, discussed him finding his own place yet?”

Renly shrugged. He felt a little guilty that Jon evidently thought this was a sensitive topic for them to discuss. “It hasn’t been brought up,” he told him.

Jon sat down at his kitchen table and beckoned Renly to join him. “Tell me the truth,” he sighed once Renly was sat opposite him. “I know you’ve said there isn’t, but really, is there something going on? There’s two pictures of you together in that magazine, and you look like a real couple.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. Jon was beginning to sound like a broken record and it was most tiresome. “You think I’m cheating on you with him?” he asked bluntly, wondering if Jon would realise how ludicrous he sounded.

Jon shrugged though. “Okay,” he said calmly. “Let’s call it that.”

Renly had expected him to backtrack and he was more than a little surprised. “Actually?” he laughed. “You _actually_ think we’re carrying on some kind of affair behind your back?”

Jon shrugged. “I just want you to tell me. My friend Rhaegar had an affair once and it almost ruined his marriage.”

Renly frowned. “Well what makes you think I’m being unfaithful?” He leant back to pick up the copy of Heat Magazine and flicked to the feature on Loras. Most of it was focused around the fact that Loras had apparently let himself go for an afternoon while walking to the shops, but there were indeed two pictures of the two of them together. Both were rather small and they didn’t show anything more than the two of them walking side by side on a pavement somewhere.

“It’s not the pictures,” Jon sighed. “It’s just, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s like he wants to eat you with a spoon. Maybe you don’t see it, but he’d clearly rip your clothes off if he got half the chance.”

Renly raised a sceptical eyebrow and rested his elbows on the table like Stannis had always told him not to. “Seriously?” he asked. “You’re using _his_ behaviour as indicative of mine?”

“And you’re not much better,” Jon added hastily, daring to meet Renly’s eye. He took a large breath. “We started going on dates three months ago and you haven’t even let me stay at yours yet once.”

“Well it would be weird,” Renly said quietly. He knew he was being a little difficult here, but without going into the details of the list Jaime and Sansa had kindly written, it was hard to explain to Jon why Loras might find it more than a little distressing to be around when they were having sex.

“Why?” Jon demanded. “It’s your house. I’m your partner. Why would us having sex there be weird?”

Renly closed his eyes. “It just would,” he sighed.

Jon merely looked exasperated with him. “And one more thing,” he added. “I’d quite like it if we could switch round next time you’re over.”

Renly resisted the urge to grimace. He knew it was fair and yet it was one of those things he really could never be bothered with. He chanced another look at Jon and was disappointed to see that he looked quite determined. It certainly seemed like there was no room for negotiation and Renly stifled a groan. It seemed almost worth getting back with Loras instead, purely because switching round was something he reckoned Loras would never ask for.

“Fine,” he sighed. He got up, his chair scraping the floor painfully. “Look, I should be getting home. I’ve got work tomorrow and I want to get to bed early.”

 

* * *

 

 

Loras was in the living room skyping his sister when Renly came back in. He seemed to be just saying goodbye though and so Renly didn’t feel too bad about hovering in the doorway. He knew that they’d seen rather a lot of each other recently, but he didn’t dare get involved. Part of him did worry that Margaery spent much of their time together poisoning Loras against him, but there was little he reckoned he could do about that. As far as he was concerned, the longer he went without seeing Margaery, the better that would work out for him.

“How’s your sister?” he asked politely though when he heard the sound of Skype closing.

“Fine,” Loras laughed, patting the sofa cushion next to him. “She actually asked how you were today.”

Renly grinned and came to sit down next to him. “Stopped hating me then?”

Loras frowned, bending to put his laptop on the floor. “She never hated you, Ren. She just thinks we’re bad for each other.” He leant back against the armrest of the sofa, resting his legs on Renly’s lap. “And anyway she’s given up interfering. She says it’s on my head now.”

Renly smiled. He didn’t mind Loras’ legs there and he rested a hand on his knee. “Talking of us,” he laughed. “Jon thinks you and I are having some kind of illicit affair. Isn’t that crazy?”

Loras’ brow furrowed slightly. “No,” he said. “I don’t see why that’s crazy.”

“But we’re _not_ having an affair,” Renly chuckled.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Funnily enough, I’m well aware of that.”

Renly just laughed at him and reclined back lazily against the cushions. Staring up at the ceiling, he pondered Jon’s fears. He supposed that Loras was right; the idea wasn’t so crazy after all. Loras still had his legs in his lap, and Renly knew how easy it would be to slide his hand off Loras’ knee and up his leg slightly. He wondered whether Loras would slap his hand away, or if he’d merely shiver and close his eyes in a wordless admission of consent as Renly rubbed tentative circles against his jeans, grazing his inner thighs. He imagined a tiny groan escaping Loras’ mouth, a barely audible whimper that would give Renly permission to slide him onto his lap properly, to slip his fingers up his thin cotton shirt and tease a hand across his chest.

Renly gulped. His mouth was suddenly dry and he was half hard in his jeans. He looked over at Loras and swallowed loudly. “Just out of interest, would you?”

Loras’ eyes flicked up to his face; he seemed baffled. “Would I what?”

Renly forced a rather hoarse laugh. “Give in if I propositioned you now?”

Loras’ eyes widened slightly. “No?” he said. He glanced down at Renly’s hand still on his knee.

Renly chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t really know what sort of an answer he’d been hoping for. “Aww,” he teased. “Why would you say that?”

Loras’ cheeks turned a dusky shade of pink; he didn’t seem to know if Renly was mocking him or not. “Well what do you bloody expect me to say?”

He was getting flustered and Renly enjoyed the way the pink flush was spreading from his cheeks down his neck, tiny little tendrils of fuchsia disappearing under the collar of his shirt. It was a thin line between embarrassment and arousal, and Renly felt his cock twitch again in his jeans. “So you would?” he prompted. He laughed as he said it and yet even Renly wasn’t sure if he was joking or not now.

“Stop pushing it will you.” Loras mumbled. He made to swing his legs off Renly’s lap, but instinctively, Renly found himself tightening his hand on Loras’ knee, anchoring him in place.

“But you would?”

“I said _drop it_.” The line between embarrassment and arousal had been crossed now. Loras’ pupils were blown, his breathing was laboured, and Renly could feel his pulse beating behind his knee.

“Why?” he asked.

This time, Loras forced his legs off Renly’s lap. “Because how do you think it would make someone feel to admit that they’d be the other man? How do you think that reflects on my pride?”

It was almost yelped and Renly immediately knew he’d gone too far.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras had slammed the door rather loudly behind him and Renly forced himself to breathe. He knew that he’d crossed a line, that Loras was probably feeling angry, confused and a little hurt. Part of him wanted to chase after him, and yet a far bigger part of him had other concerns.

Exhaling loudly, he unbuttoned his jeans, sliding the zip down. He could still feel the weight of Loras’ legs in his lap, the comforting warmth of them. He’d had sex already this evening and yet he knew it wouldn’t take him long. He wrapped his hand tightly around his cock and squeezed his eyes shut. The flush across Loras’ cheeks was still imprinted on the back of his eyelids and Renly imagined touching it, following those spirals of pink down his neck, stopping to kiss the hollow at the base of his throat, to suck deep purple blooms into the porcelain of his skin.

He imagined turning him over, forcing his legs apart with a rough hand until he was splayed before him on the floor. His arse would be hot and tight, and Renly squeezed harder with his fingers. He could almost hear the sounds that Loras would make as he fucked him- how he’d groan and choke around Renly’s name, whimpering as he took a cock too big for him. In real life, he’d have never dared to fuck Loras so hard, but in his imagination it didn’t matter. The version of Loras in his mind’s eye was more like Satin- he rocked back to meet him with every thrust, he begged to be filled, to be fucked into next week.

Renly’s entire body shook as he came, and exhausted, he collapsed back against the sofa cushions. Dazed, he sat there for a long few moments, his release cooling stickily on his fingers. It took all the effort he had left to lean over to the coffee table and pull one of the tissues out of the box to clean himself up.

He felt a little guilty by the time that he’d washed his hands, as if he’d _actually_ hurt Loras, and he climbed the stairs with some trepidation. It was ironic, he thought, that he felt worse about the fact that he’d played too rough with Loras in a fantasy than the fact that he’d perhaps proved that Jon’s concerns weren’t wholly unfounded.

He didn’t know whether Loras would be willing to make amends yet, but he knocked on his bedroom door anyway.

“Come in,” was the muttered reply.

Renly pushed the door open. Loras was lying on his bed with a copy of Vogue across his pillow. He was flicking through the pages absent-mindedly, and Renly wondered if this was how Loras had looked as a teenager- rifling through fashion magazines and wondering why the pictures in there interested him more than the half-naked girls he’d insisted on blue-tacking to his walls.

“I’m really sorry,” Renly murmured as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “I was really out of line earlier.” He reached out to pat Loras’ hand and thought better of it. “I was just playing, you know. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“S’alright,” Loras mumbled.

“So we’re okay?” Renly almost crossed his fingers behind his back. He probably would have done if Loras wouldn't have mocked him for it. 

“Yeah,” Loras sighed. “We’re okay.” He sat up heavily and snapped the magazine shut. “So why does Jon think we’re having an affair anyway?”

Renly ran a hand through his hair. “Because we live together.”

Loras’ forehead furrowed and he chewed his lip contemplatively. “I suppose you want me to move out then?”

Renly shrugged. He really didn't. "Nah..." he said. 

Loras scowled. “Then why did you bring it up then?” he snapped.

Renly winced. “I shouldn’t have,” he agreed meekly.

Loras sighed at his expression. “I didn’t mean to snap,” he said wearily. “I’m just having a bit of a rough day today.”

Renly cocked his head. “Why?”

“Because sixteen separate publications called me fat this morning.”

Renly cringed and wondered why he hadn't assumed that in the first place. “Yeah I saw that,” he admitted. “Though to be fair, none of them called you _fat_ per se. They just said you’ve put on weight. Which you have, but in a really good way. You were scarily thin this time last year.” He remembered that all too well. Loras had been _terrifyingly_ thin, like a walking skeleton. He'd been so thin that the hospital had felt it necessary to pump him full of glucose. 

Loras rolled his eyes though. “Perez Hilton definitely called me ‘chubby’,” he muttered. “And some _Daily Mirror_ columnist said that they wanted to pinch my cheeks.”

Renly had to laugh. “There’s worse things,” he said. He had the sudden mental image of some women coming up to Loras to fuss over his dimples.

Loras shrugged. “It just pisses me off. I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t. I’m either too skinny or piling on the pounds.”

“Well you’re really fine,” Renly told him. He lifted up his shirt. “Go on, prod. Feel how cuddly _I_ am.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Be quiet. You’re perfect and you know it.” He tugged Renly’s shirt down. “You’re one of those people who can eat whatever the hell they like and not put on any weight.”

Renly grinned. “How do you know I don’t secretly go to the gym in my lunch-break?” he asked.

Loras apparently didn’t even deign that question worth an answer. He just snorted, raising a very derisive eyebrow. He evidently knew Renly far too well to think that Renly would ever willingly choose to work out over lunch instead of getting a gourmet hamburger from the deli across the road. 

“You feeling a little better?” Renly asked when he was silent for a few moments.

Loras shrugged. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Think I might go home for a few days though. Give you some time alone with the b… _with Jon._ ”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “What stopped you saying boyfriend?” he laughed. Sadly, he thought he already knew the answer. He was under no illusions as to what Loras thought about Jon- what he too thought of Jon if he was being brutally honest. He wondered if this made him and Loras horrible people.

Loras looked a little sheepish. “It just doesn’t, um, _suit_ him…”

Renly rolled his eyes. “It’s because he’s old isn’t he?”

“Yeah…” Loras admitted. He shrugged. “But whatever you’re calling him, I’ll get out from under your feet for a few days.”


	70. Chapter 70

Sighing, Renly stretched out a little gingerly across his bed, unable to find a position that was comfortable. He had kept his word and whilst he felt like he’d done his good deed for the day, he couldn’t ignore how much he seemed to ache. If Satin had been here, Renly knew he’d have laughed and told him that it was his fault for not relaxing enough, or for not communicating his discomfort to his partner well enough, but Renly couldn’t help feel sorry for himself all the same. For the first time perhaps, he found himself wondering if he perhaps ought to have given Loras credit where credit was due more often. Whilst he’d been rather dull between the sheets, he’d very rarely complained afterwards. That final night of theirs aside, he’d suffered any discomfort, he’d certainly borne it in silence, and never let Renly know he was in pain.

Renly was well aware that he was currently embodying the polar opposite of that attitude. He was being a baby and he knew it. Whilst some men would probably have told him to simply ‘man up’ though, Jon was actually being rather sympathetic. Every now and then he’d suggest running Renly a hot bath, and he’d wrapped his arms around his chest rather pleasantly.

All in all, he was being rather sweet, and Renly felt a little guilty for not being more appreciative of him. On paper, Jon was a rather ideal partner. He was intelligent, educated, capable of holding good conversation; he was neither selfish nor controlling. He had a socially acceptable job, and certainly _didn’t_ have an expensive drug habit behind closed doors. Even with the age gap and the fact that he identified as versatile, Renly reckoned that if he was objective about it, he’d have to concede that he was near perfect. As it was though, Renly was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps not after ‘perfect’, if he was instead doomed to want someone whose name began with an L and ended with an S.

Fate must have read his mind then perhaps, for Renly heard the distinct sound of movement downstairs: the jingle of keys and clattering of steps on his wooden floors. He was a little surprised. It was gone eleven for one, and he’d assumed too that Loras would spend the entire weekend at home. As it was, he’d only gone for Friday and Saturday.

“Loras is back,” he commented idly to Jon.

To his credit, Jon merely nodded politely. “Is he?”

Renly dragged himself wearily out of bed and threw on the nearest pair of pyjama bottoms he found. Usually, he might have not bothered with a shirt to merely pop downstairs, but with Jon here as a witness, he fished out a t-shirt too. He didn’t want Jon to think after all that he was overly familiar with Loras.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he told Jon once he was suitably covered up. “Going to go tell him that there’s some leftovers for him in the fridge.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Do supermodels eat leftovers?” he asked.

Renly grinned. For extra effect, he shoved his arms into his dressing gown. _Nobody_ could accuse that of being sexy. “Do supermodels _eat_ would have been a better question.”

Jon laughed. “Well does he?”

Renly ran a hand through his hair, checking that it wasn’t too rumpled in the mirror. “Eat or eat left overs?” he asked. He didn’t wait for Jon to clarify. “Both actually nowadays. He never _used_ to eat back in the day, but he’s got a lot better. Even eats chocolate. As for the leftovers… well he’s a really bad cook and just a little bit too down to earth to order in gourmet meals every day. He’ll take what he’s given.”

“He’s lucky he lives with you then,” Jon commented. “Your cooking is really nice.”

Renly’s smile widened. “That’s because I like food,” he chuckled, opening the door and heading out onto the landing.

He met Loras in the hallway. Loras must have been on his way upstairs and he must have been deep in thought; he didn’t seem to have heard Renly coming down the stairs and he started visibly when he glanced up to see Renly in front of him.

“Hi,” Renly laughed. “Head in the clouds by any chance?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I was just thinking,” he said. He sounded a little defensive, shifty even, and Renly wondered what he’d been thinking _about_. He’d have paid good money to have been able to read his thoughts, but as it was, he had no option but to ask.

“Well what about?” he laughed. “Must have been interesting if you didn’t hear even my feet thumping down the stairs.”

“Mmm,” Loras agreed, half-hearted at best.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Well what is it?”

Loras took a while to answer, and when he did, he opened and closed his mouth several times before saying anything. “Renly…” he said slowly. “How do you feel about animals?”

Renly frowned. He’d merely been curious before but now he couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. “ _Why_?” he pressed.

Loras made a rather disgruntled face. “I asked first.”

Renly sighed, deciding that he might as well humour him. “How do I feel about animals…” he pondered. He shrugged. “I’m fairly ambivalent towards animals unless they’re on my plate. I guess they’re all right. What kind of animals?”

Loras bit his lip, casting about the room as if the different types of animals were carved into the walls for him to read. “Let’s say dogs,” he said.

Renly shrugged. “My brother’s wife used to say that they’re dirty horrid creatures?” he offered. “She wouldn’t let them in the house. Said that they had rabies and fleas.”

“Oh.” Loras bit down on his lip harder. “Well how do _you_ feel about dogs?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Why?” he repeated. This sounded more than a little suspicious now and Renly wondered what he’d got up his sleeve. He was half convinced that Loras was going to whip out a catalogue from a pet shop or something.

“Um, well...” Shuffling away, Loras disappeared through the hall door into the kitchen. He was back in moments and he pushed a wriggling bundle of brown fur into Renly’s arms. “Happy late Birthday?”

The puppy was squirming and Renly almost dropped it. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “Definitely definitely not.” It was trying to lick his hand and Renly practically thrust it back in Loras’ direction, taking a hasty step back.

“But she’s so lovely,” Loras almost purred, cradling the ball of fluff to his chest. He didn’t seem to mind the thing licking his hand and he scratched its ears affectionately.

Renly made a face. He’d never had a pet as a child and unlike most kids, he’d never particularly wanted one either. Both Stannis and Robert had lived in townhouses and he’d always been more interested in clothes and getting a boyfriend. He didn’t know how to act around dogs and he wasn’t about to start learning now. He was a city boy through and through, a proper Londoner, and he had no need of man’s alleged best friend.

“Look Loras,” he said firmly, eyeing the creature that was still in Loras’ arms a little warily. “I’m very fond of you, but I’m putting my foot down here. I have cream sofas and wooden floors for it to ruin with its claws. I literally don’t know the first thing about dogs.”

“Yeah but I do,” Loras protested. He lowered the puppy to the floor and it merely whined at him to be picked back up, jumping manically up at his legs. “Aww come on, Ren, she’s not a new-born puppy or anything. She’s been weaned for weeks, and she’s practically housetrained even.” He looked up at Renly with big eyes. “Nobody else wanted her you see. Because she was the runt of the litter.”

Renly swallowed. “Well I don’t want it either,” he said. It was trying to clamber up his legs too now, yapping all the while, and Renly tried to shake it off. “Now where did you get it from? You can take it right back.”

“Don’t be such a spoil sport,” Loras told him scathingly. Rolling his eyes, he scooped the puppy back up, rescuing Renly’s pyjama bottoms from its scrabbling and fussing over it. “Willas bred her,” he explained. “She’s the only one of the litter that nobody wanted.”

“Well you can take it back to him,” Renly said.

Loras opened his mouth to argue.

“And that’s final.”

Loras’ face hardened. “Fine,” he said, eyes narrowed. “I’ll take her back tomorrow then, to be alone and unloved.” He turned his back on Renly then, giving him the cold shoulder and retreating back into the kitchen.

Renly sighed heavily. A tiny part of him felt guilty, but a much larger part- the part that had studied and practised law for far too long, knew that it was Loras here who was being completely unreasonable. He followed him into the kitchen a little reluctantly.

“Loras,” he called wearily. He paused when he saw the new additions Loras had seen fit to make to his kitchen. There was a wicker dog basket next to the fridge that was lined with thick fleecy material, and two bowls, one red and one blue had been placed by the back door. The red one had attracted the puppy’s attention and it was lapping water from it enthusiastically. It looked most out of place in his chic modern kitchen.

“I never said what I came for,” Renly managed eventually, once he’d managed to tear his eyes away from the very strange sight in his kitchen. “I came down to tell you that there’s risotto in the fridge that you can heat up if you want.”

Loras was sat at the kitchen table and he didn’t even turn to face him. “Not hungry thank you,” he said bluntly.

Renly sighed heavily. “Don’t sulk,” he said. “I hate it when you sulk.”

“I’m not sulking.”

Renly rolled his eyes. Loras was the very definition of sulking right now. He had his arms folded across his chest and he was practically pouting. In other circumstances, Renly reckoned he’d have found it adorable. Now though, letting Loras endear himself to him was certainly not on the agenda.

“Look Loras,” Renly sighed, coming to stand behind him. “I’m really not being unreasonable here.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

Renly snorted. “You don’t have to,” he laughed. “It’s written all across your face.”

Loras merely ignored him.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well I should be going back upstairs,” he said, knowing that he was speaking to himself more than anything. “I’ve got Jon round.”

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

When he got back upstairs, Renly was very glad that he had Jon waiting for him. It meant that he had someone on his side, and indeed, once Renly had told him what Loras had seen fit to bring back unexpectedly for them, he seemed rather shocked, sitting up against the headboard.

“Seriously?” he asked. “He brought back a pet without asking? When you’ve never had one before and you live in the middle of London? It’s not exactly the most ideal surprise present is it?” He seemed baffled as to why anybody would think that a good idea.

Renly laughed. “That’s supermodels for you,” he mumbled. “They’re all entitled. And dog lovers apparently.” He sighed heavily, flopping back against the bed. “Anyway, it’s going back tomorrow so we needn’t worry about it anymore. Let’s just get some sleep.”

“Mmm,” Jon agreed. He flicked the bedside lamp off. “You’ll probably feel less sore in the morning too.”

“Hopefully,” Renly yawned. He was _sure_ that he would in fact. Nothing, he reckoned, made one feel as good as a good night’s sleep did. Especially if it was followed by a Sunday fry-up.

The hours passed though and Renly still found that he couldn’t get himself comfortable. It wasn’t as if he were in pain exactly, he just found he couldn’t relax. Whether that was due to the dull ache that sex had left him with though or his quasi-row with Loras, he wasn’t sure. He supposed it could have been a combination of both. It certainly didn’t help either that every now and then he’d hear a high-pitched whine or whimper from downstairs.

He stuck it out until four in the morning before he rose from bed. Part of him wanted to go and bother Loras for one of his very powerful sleeping tablets but he knew that that was hardly acceptable. He had no particular qualms about using other people’s medication, but on the off chance that Loras was actually asleep himself, it would be rather unfair and ironic even to wake him up and badger him for sleeping tablets.

Instead, he would have to make do with a decent dose of Night Nurse. He wasn’t suffering from any of the cold and flu symptoms that it aimed to eliminate, but he knew from experience that it tended to make him more than a little drowsy and he also knew that he had a bottle of it gathering dust in one of his kitchen cupboards.

He padded downstairs warily though. He imagined that the dog had been put in the kitchen to sleep, and as the whining had stopped several hours earlier, he didn’t exactly want to wake it up and set it off barking again. Nor did he want to step in any puddles that it may or may not have made.

He was pleased but baffled to find the kitchen empty. The basket had disappeared from next to the fridge and so had the bowls of food and water. For a brief few moments, he wondered whether Loras had perhaps thought better himself of his very rash decision and taken the thing back to Highgarden himself, despite the late hour. Loras admitting his mistakes so quickly would definitely mark a first, but Renly was willing to let himself hope.

Peering through into the living room though, he was soon disappointed. The puppy and its basket had merely been moved in there, placed on many sheets of newspaper. Loras, meanwhile, had evidently abandoned his bedroom to sit with it. He was asleep on the sofa nearest Renly, stretched out under his duvet, an arm around one of the cushions.

He’d left the lamp on and Renly watched them silently from the doorway. The puppy was much more amenable now that it was asleep. Curled up in its basket, it was nothing but a dappled gold ball of fur, one of its long silky ears inside out in rather a comical way. It was sharing its basket with a hot water bottle, and more strangely, an alarm clock. Now that it wasn’t yapping and whining, it was actually quite sweet.

Loras was perhaps sweeter still though, Renly thought to himself. For once he appeared to be quite peaceful, and Renly wondered if that was why he’d brought the animal back with him. He knew that Loras found the nights difficult and he supposed perhaps that Loras intended to take it in his bedroom with him when he couldn’t sleep so he wouldn’t have to lie there in the dark all by himself. Renly could understand the appeal. Unlike a person, a dog would never fall out of love with him, or get another boyfriend. It was the unconditional affection and stability that no person could ever give Loras.

In a way, Renly supposed, the puppy was his replacement.

He was still stood there pondering that when Loras yawned softly from the sofa.

“Ren…?” he groaned, blinking a few times in the dim light that the lamp was giving off. He seemed surprised to see him stood there and he sat up, pulling the duvet up to his shoulders as he did so.

“Hey,” Renly murmured. He came to perch on the arm of the sofa, at the end where Loras had his feet. “What you doing down here?”

Loras yawned again, one arm going behind his head as he stretched. “She was crying and I couldn’t sleep, so…” He shrugged.

Renly smiled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “You just don’t like being by yourself at night do you?” He remembered Garlan telling him how their mother had used to sit with Loras when he couldn’t’ sleep. That was something he reckoned Loras would never admit to.

Loras shrugged. “Not much,” he agreed. He closed his eyes briefly. “It’s always easier to feel worse at night somehow.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. “I think it’s probably something to do with the dark.” He paused, sighing heavily and gestured to the basket. “So what’s its name then?”

“What’s _her_ name,” Loras corrected. “Her name’s Ophelia.” He ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “Willas names his litters rather strangely. Sometimes it’s authors or star constellations, or types of plants. Once it was types of igneous rocks whatever they are. I’m not sure what this year’s was. Something to do with Shakespeare? There was definitely a Romeo at one point but I’m told he got sold first.”

Renly couldn’t help but smile. Willas’ taste in names was apparently too high-brow for Loras, for most people in general probably. “Sounds about right,” he agreed. “Shakespearian characters I suppose. Ophelia is the mad one in Hamlet who falls from a willow tree and drowns herself.”

Loras shrugged. “Trust you to know.” He reached down and scratched behind the animal’s ears. It stretched out then, rolling over sleepily onto its back as if it wanted its tummy tickled.

“You know Loras,” Renly sighed, shifting off the arm of the sofa to sit beside him properly. “I would have thought you more of a cat person.” He’d always thought that actually. Loras was a little like one himself. It was something to do with the graceful way he moved and the almond shape of his eyes.

Loras shrugged though. “I like both,” he explained. “But dogs are friendlier. They need you whereas cats just get on with their own thing. Willas thought it would do me good to have her, that it would give me some responsibility or something.”

Amused, Renly was suddenly reminded of the leaflet that Garlan had given him back in April last year, the rather strange one about romance and sobriety. “You missed out the house plant stage,” he chuckled, more to himself than to Loras.

Indeed, Loras looked baffled. “House plant?” he questioned. “Why would I get a house plant?”

Renly just shook his head, smiling. “Never mind.”

Loras just shrugged. He didn’t bother pressing the matter and instead he leant down again to stroke the dog’s long ears. It was weird to watch him, Renly found. He’d never seen Loras act even remotely maternal with anything before. Now though, he was being as gentle as if it were a human baby in the basket. His hands were quiet and his expression soft.

“I _guess_ it’s kinda cute,” Renly conceded as he watched.

Loras rolled his eyes. He reached both hands into the basket now and scooped the thing up, dropping it into Renly’s lap. It was still sleepy apparently and it merely closed its eyes, settling down where Loras had placed it. A little awkwardly, Renly reached out a hand to pet it, patting its head jerkily a few times until Loras took his hand in his and showed him how to stroke it properly.

Loras leant against his shoulder then, and Renly was struck with a bizarre sensation. The dog was warm in his lap, soft and helpless; Loras was solid and reassuring against his side. It gave him a warm fuzzy feeling deep in his chest and he wondered if this was how Sansa felt when she saw mothers with babies.

“Look, Loras,” Renly murmured. “About the dog.”

Loras tilted his face up towards him, big brown eyes expectant. “Yes?”

“I suppose you can keep her if you really want to.”

Loras just smiled innocently up at him as if he had always known he would get his own way.


	71. Chapter 71

Renly woke up in a good mood the next morning. He felt much less sore than he had done last night, and judging from the chink of light that was escaping through a gap in the blinds, it looked as if spring had finally decided to kick in. Jon too was warm next to him, and Renly rolled over lazily to face him, unsurprised to find that he was awake. As he had with most of his boyfriends, Renly usually found that he was always the last to wake on weekends.

“Morning,” Jon smiled. He seemed pleased to see Renly awake and his hands migrated almost immediately to Renly’s waist, fingers trailing across the cotton fabric of the t-shirt Renly had worn to bed. It was clearly an attempt to initiate something, and Renly bit back a sigh. He was of two minds right now. On one hand, he was half hard already, as he was often in the mornings. On the other, for all he knew Loras could be in the next room.

“Not now,” he yawned eventually when Jon made his attempt explicit, his fingers finally dipping below the waistband of Renly’s boxers.

Jon frowned, fingers pausing on Renly’s stomach. “Why not?” he asked. “Surely Loras will be taking that dog back this morning?”

Renly grinned sheepishly. “Ah, well… I thought about it a bit more last night,” he admitted, “and I kind of had a change of heart.”

“Of course you did,” said Jon bluntly. He didn’t seem particularly surprised. He took his hand off Renly’s stomach.

Renly sighed, feeling guilty now. He shifted closer and rested his chin on Jon’s shoulder. “We could maybe do _some_ stuff if you like. Just not go all the way?” He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, pressing them closer.

“It’s fine,” Jon said though, and whilst Renly couldn’t see his face, he suspected that he might very well have been rolling his eyes.

There was a slightly awkward silence then and Renly shifted positions a little awkwardly, drawing back from the embrace that he’d initiated but that wasn’t really being returned. “I’ll go get us some breakfast then,” he mumbled, getting out of bed and heading out onto the landing.

Neither Loras nor the dog were anywhere to be seen when Renly came into the kitchen, and whilst Renly spent quite a long time frying eggs and bacon and putting baked beans in the microwave, he didn’t appear either. It made Renly a little glad. Whilst he supposed that it was possible that Loras had gone out and taken the dog with him, he suspected that it was more likely to be the case that he was in his room, something which meant that Renly wouldn’t have turned down sex for nothing.

It was quite a splendid breakfast that Renly made for them, and yet he and Jon ate it in bed almost silently, neither of them making much effort with conversation. Once their plates had been scraped clean thus, and once Jon was safely occupied in the shower, Renly crept out of his room to seek out Loras.

Loras answered as soon as Renly knocked on his bedroom door, and he sounded very cheerful. When Renly entered, he couldn’t help but feel cheerful either. The curtains in Loras’ room had been opened as wide as they went and the room was ablaze with spring sunshine; it was enough to put anyone in a good mood, Renly reckoned.

Seeing Loras put him in an even better mood. He was sat up in bed with a notepad on his lap and an enormous smile on his face, his hair momentarily blond again with the way that the light caught it. The puppy was stretched out against his legs, burrowed into the duvet and basking in the sunshine too. They made an adorably sweet pair and Renly grinned at them both. Whilst Loras returned the smile though, it was the puppy, not Loras, who paid Renly more attention. The dog was attempting to lick at his face before Renly had even finished sitting down on the edge of Loras’ bed, jumping up on its hind legs whilst its front paws batted against Renly’s chest. Loras, meanwhile, seemed absorbed with the notepad he had on his lap.

“What you doing?” Renly laughed, sitting up a little taller so that there were no uncovered patches of skin that the puppy could reach.

“I’m making a list,” Loras explained simply.

“Well what kind of list?” Renly asked, curious. It wasn’t as if Loras made shopping lists or anything. The puppy had calmed down a bit now and Renly patted it as best as he could.

“Stuff that I’m going to do.”

“Like…” Renly prompted.

Sighing, Loras finally put down the pen and paper. “Well I’m going to go to the gym,” he said, “and I’m going to start horse riding again maybe.” He paused, a strange expression flitting across his face. “And I’m going to give up smoking.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Surely not?” He found that hard to believe. It was possible after all that Loras loved cigarettes more than he’d loved cocaine.

Loras shrugged. “Well I’m going to switch to E-cigarettes at least. Apparently they make it easier to quit you see, and I really can’t face going cold turkey.”

Renly grinned at him. “You know that January the first was two and a half months ago right?”

Loras shrugged. “I felt like turning over a new leaf.” He yawned, stretching his arms out behind his head. “And I’ve texted that friend of yours again. You know, Beric, the strawberry blond one. We’re going to go on another date today. Well a date of sorts I guess, we’re going to take her around the park.” He gestured to the puppy that was still after Renly’s face.

Renly tried not to frown. “Definitely not going to see Guyard again then?” he asked tentatively.

Loras laughed. “I don’t think so. He’s been busy anyway for the last few weeks, recording demos and stuff to try and get that record contract someone hinted at. And anyway, I think I made it quite clear that we wouldn’t go out again.”

Renly nodded slowly. “So Beric again huh?” He felt as good about that as he had done the last time Loras had gone out with Beric. Where Guyard had been doomed to fail, Beric was a different kettle of fish altogether. He was handsome and intelligent, suave where Guyard was cringe-worthy. Renly regretted having ever introduced the two of them. It was a mistake on his part that he certainly wouldn’t be making again. 

“Yeah,” Loras said. “We’re going out like mid-afternoon. We’ll just take her to that grassy square round the corner. She’s too young to walk very far.”

Renly nodded. He tried not to dwell too much on the idea of Beric and Loras taking a potentially romantic stroll together through St George’s Square gardens. He looked down at the puppy and tried to scratch its ears like Loras did. “On another dog related note,” he said, thinking aloud more than anything. “Would it be okay if I invite Sansa round to see her? She’s a massive dog lover, you see.”

Loras looked surprised. “Really?” he asked. “I’d never have got that from her.”

Renly just smiled. “Mmm,” he agreed. “She doesn’t seem the type but her and her family have a strange amount of huskies.”

Loras shrugged. “Yeah she always seemed so prim. That surprises me.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well I didn’t exactly have you down for an animal lover either.”

Loras just shrugged again. “You knew I was a horse lover,” he pointed out. “And that I used to play polo and show jump and stuff.”

“True,” Renly agreed, trying not to laugh at how posh Loras made himself sound in that one sentence. “Well is it okay if I invite Sansa round then?

“Your house, your friends,” Loras said simply.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa was over like a bullet from a gun when Renly texted her and told her what Loras had brought home last night. For once, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a t-shirt; apparently her love of puppies outweighed her usual insistence on looking stylish at all times. Stranger still, she’d even brought Arya along which wasn’t something she often did voluntarily.

The puppy had run to the door as soon as they’d knocked, and when the door was opened, Sansa bent down and fussed over it with more enthusiasm than Renly would have thought possible. She was making the same faces that she made at babies in prams and sounds were coming out of her mouth that Renly didn’t even recognise as human. For once, her manners failed too, and she didn’t pause to greet either Renly or Jon.

Jon didn’t seem offended though and he turned instead to Arya. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Renly’s boyfriend.”

Renly tried not to cringe at the word. “This is Arya,” he told Jon as Arya simply raised a hand in greeting, “Sansa’s sister.” He gestured to Sansa and grinned. “You might not recognise her from the last time you saw her. She’s wearing considerably less make up and considerably more clothes than she was at fashion week.”

Sansa seemed to notice then that Renly wasn’t alone in the hall and she quickly stood, embarrassed. It was only then, as Sansa and Jon were engaging in polite conversation, that Renly noticed Loras attempting to slink away up the stairs.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Renly laughed.

Loras looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He gestured a little pathetically up the stairs. “Up there?” he mumbled. “You’ve got your boyfriend and your friends round.”

“You’re a friend too,” Renly protested. The word stuck awkwardly on his tongue as if it were sandpaper. Loras technically was a friend, but it seemed strange to put him that category.

Perhaps Loras agreed, for he hesitated before consenting to stay, and very reluctantly, he merely sank down to sit on the stairs instead of coming properly down. He had a very forced smile on his face, and looked as if he’d rather have been anywhere else. He was clearly more than a little uncomfortable and Renly wondered whether he should have let him escape upstairs after all. Guiltily, he wondered if Loras was thinking about the many humiliating things that he knew Renly had told Sansa about him. Or else, if he was thinking about that painfully awkward moment where Arya had once mistaken him for Satin.

“Hi Loras,” Sansa said lightly once she’d evidently felt she’d been polite enough with Jon. She too perhaps recognised the fact that Loras might find being around her awkward and her cheeks blushed a little pink.

Loras gave her only a tiny nod of acknowledgement. “Hi,” he said.

Arya apparently had more enthusiasm. “Hey,” she called when she caught sight of him on the stairs. “How’s Edinb-“

“Wrong one,” Renly hissed at her, wishing he could clamp his hand over her mouth. “Wrong one, wrong one.”

“Oh…” Arya looked again and recognition dawned on her face. “Oh yeah. How’s, er, _fashion?_ ”

To his credit, Loras actually looked a little amused. “Fashion is great thank you,” he told her.

“Your dog’s cute,” Arya added. She turned back to the puppy on my floor. “Bit small though. My dog back home would eat it.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and bent down again, stroking the dog’s tummy when it rolled over at her feet. “But she’s way more gorgeous than your stupid Nymeria,” she cooed. “I just want her.” She smiled up at Loras. “Can I take her home?”

Loras managed a smile in return. “Well you can certainly take her for walks and stuff if you like. When she’d older and everything.”

“Oh I’d love that,” Sansa breathed. “And I could help you train her if you like. I’m really good at training dogs. My dog at home is always the best behaved. She never runs off, and always walks to heel, even without a lead.”

Arya shrugged. “It’s true actually.” She scowled down at her sister. “But that’s because Lady is a boring as her owner.” She turned back to Loras. “And I’m better at teaching tricks.”

Loras had been looking on a little curiously and he shrugged at Arya’s words. “Well you two can practise taking her round the garden on the lead if you like. And feel free to teach her whatever tricks you like.”

“Oh yes please.” For once both sisters seemed in agreement, and Renly wondered if that was perhaps the first time he’d ever witnessed such a thing.

They all headed outside together when Loras had found the tiny red lead that Willas had apparently given him with the dog, and Renly stopped to survey his garden when he’d finally managed to unlock the very stiff door. He had barely taken more than a passing glance at it when he’d acquired it along with the flat downstairs, but he took a good long look at it now. It was a fair size actually, stretching away from the house for a good hundred feet or so. It was terribly overgrown though, with nettles lining the fence and long grass that came up to the Renly’s thighs and Arya’s waist filling all the remaining space.

“You know what,” he laughed to whoever was listening. “I don’t think I’ve actually really been in my garden before.”

“Well you should,” Loras told him. “It could be nice with a little work.”

“How would you know?” Renly ribbed. “When would you ever have occasion to come out here? You’re not exactly _at one_ with nature either.”

Loras rolled his eyes and slipped a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. He shook them in Renly’s face in lieu of an explanation.

“I thought you’d given up smoking as of this morning,” Renly laughed, gesturing over to Jon to join them so that he wouldn’t feel left out. “Shouldn’t you have thrown those away or something?”

“Mmm,” Loras agreed, lighting one up in spite of Renly’s words. “Well I have ordered an E-cigarette. I shall give up when that arrives and not a moment before.” He took a long drag as if to illustrate his point and the look of bliss on his face was almost comical.

Renly rolled his eyes. He knew that Loras could quite easily have arranged for an E-cigarette to be delivered immediately straight to his door. Instead though, he had probably requested the slowest delivery speed possible. “You need time to say goodbye?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “Sure, we can think of it like that.”

“How do _you_ think of it?”

“Like enjoying my last few days of bliss before I shall be miserable forever?” Loras offered.

Renly sighed. “Stop being melodramatic.” He turned to Jon who had joined him at his side. “He’s a bit of a nicotine addict.”

“Is he?” Jon inquired politely.

“Definitely,” Renly laughed. Indeed, when he next looked over, Loras was sat on a very weathered bench at the end of the garden, his face turned up towards the sun and the cigarette he’d just lit between his fingers. He seemed quite happy there, and Renly wondered if it was a deliberate choice that he’d made not to stand and chat with him and Jon, or if he just had fancied siting down.

As tempted as he was to go and join him on the bench though, Renly just sank down to sit on the back step, patting the concrete for Jon to join him. Silently, they turned to watch Sansa and Arya in their attempts at making the puppy walk on a lead.

It was quite amusing, Renly found. Sansa was evidently trying to teach the puppy how to walk to heel and yet the grass was so long that the poor thing could barely see the legs she was supposed to be following. Sansa had a treat in one hand though and she seemed to be more interested in that. Every now and then she would leap at Sansa and try to climb up her legs. Arya, meanwhile, was rather successfully doing her best to flatten the grass, stamping on it rather violently.

It was a very strange mismatch of people, Renly found, but it was surprisingly pleasant. Loras seemed happy enough sat alone with his cigarettes, and it was really quite nice to see Sansa and Arya behave like proper sisters for once. Indeed, Renly reckoned that both of them would be disappointed when Beric arrived later that afternoon to take Loras and the dog out for a walk.

He would probably be disappointed too when Beric arrived, Renly thought privately to himself, but he imagined that that would be for very different reasons.

 

* * *

 

 

Beric was apparently fond of dogs too, and over the next couple of weeks it seemed to Renly that he and Loras slipped into a routine. Every other day almost, they’d meet in Beric’s lunch break and take the dog around the park together. Working as he did all the way over in the City, it was a routine that Renly could never be part of, even on the days when Loras took Ophelia out by himself. It drove him half mad with jealousy, and scrolling down the sidebar of the Daily Mail at work and seeing pictures of Loras out with his new ‘Mystery Man’ made him turn greener still.

It was a three whole weeks, however, before Beric and Loras seemed to do anything more than walk around a park together, and it was tentatively that Loras approached Renly one evening to ask if he was allowed to have Beric round.

“Ren…” he’d said sweetly as soon as Renly had got in from work, and just from his tone it had been obvious that he was going to ask for something. “Is it okay if I have Beric here this evening?”

Renly raised an eyebrow, trying to push the dog down and prevent her ruining his suit trousers. “Sure,” he said, despite the twisting knot in his stomach. “You have as many men as you like round here.” He winked at him. “Just give me prior notice and I’ll wear ear plugs to bed or go round to Jon’s.”

Loras visibly cringed. “I just meant for dinner, Renly.”

Renly grinned rather sheepishly at him and shrugged his jacket off. “Ah, well that’s fine with me too.” _Better in fact_ , he wanted to say. He yawned loudly and seeing as Ophelia had finally stopped jumping at him, bent down to scratch her ears absent-mindedly. “Do you mean tonight then?”

“Would that be okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Renly said, biting back a sigh. “How come you’re having him here though and not going out to some fancy restaurant?” That wasn’t Loras’ usual style.

Loras laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Because I don’t trust you to be alone with her.” Loras patted Ophelia who was sat at his feet now, almost on them as she had a habit of doing.

Renly laughed. Loras had been true to his word so far about taking care of the dog himself. Now apparently was no different; he’d rather have Beric round to the house than leave Renly to pick up his slack and have to look after the dog. Part of Renly wished it had been the other way round though, and sighing to himself, he resolved to go over to Jon’s this evening and every other evening that Loras had Beric round.


	72. Chapter 72

On the whole, Renly was very successful at avoiding Beric, and it was a slip up indeed when he came back from Jon’s one evening to find that he’d misjudged the time and that Beric was still there. Even after ten years or so, Renly found that he recognised his voice as soon as he came through the door and the fact that it was mingled now with Loras’ made him want to slip silently back out the front door and return to Jon’s.

It was a tempting idea, made all the more tempting by the fact that neither Loras nor Beric seemed to have noticed him come in. In the end though, it was Renly’s curiosity than won out, and like a tiger stalking through the undergrowth, he crept towards the living room to get a peek of the two of them together.

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or not when he peered through the gap between the door and the wall. On the one hand, they weren’t having raunchy sex on his cream sofas, but on the other, the pair of them were spooning, curled up together under a blanket. They looked quite sweet together actually, Beric’s red hair almost brightly golden against Loras’ chocolate curls, and Renly thought he might vomit.

All in all, the sight left a bitter taste in Renly’s mouth, and yet regardless, he couldn’t help staring. Loras was the larger spoon so to speak, and that surprised Renly. Beric was the older of the two, the height difference was minimal, and so Renly would really have expected Loras to have been the one being cuddled. As it was though, Loras had his arms wrapped tightly around Beric’s chest and Renly was left wondering if it were perhaps only with him that Loras ever showed his vulnerable side. He certainly liked to think so at least.

It took every ounce of determination to stop spying on them, and biting back a sigh, Renly made sure to create a great deal of noise while taking his coat off, jingling his keys in his hand for extra effect. He knew that it was only polite to go and say hi but he wanted to give them enough warning to untwine themselves from each other.

It worked well, and Beric’s voice called out to him almost immediately.

“Renly,” he called. “Get in here, won’t you. Long time, no see. ”

Reluctantly, Renly pushed the door open. He was relieved to see that they were sat side by side now, the blanket merely over their knees. Ophelia, previously out of sight, was sat at Loras’ feet and she wagged her tail at Renly’s entrance, beelining immediately towards him.

“Hey,” Renly laughed, giving Beric a wave before leaning down to pat the dog. “Yeah I can’t believe we haven’t crossed paths yet either.”

“I know,” Beric agreed, and if he suspected that Renly had been avoiding him purposefully, it didn’t show in his tone. “God, what’s it been? Seven years? Eight? How long’s it been since we had a high school reunion?”

Renly just laughed. “A _long_ time,” he said. It was surprisingly nice to see Beric, but he found it was a rather strange dynamic. They were old school friends; they’d been very close back in the day. As Beric said though, it had been almost a decade since they’d seen each other.

“How’ve you been then?” Beric asked. “Still a hot shot lawyer?” He turned to Loras. “Renly here could always charm the birds from the trees, even when he was eleven. I dread to think what kind of a lawyer he is.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I’m a fine lawyer,” he insisted. “How’s… um… what did you go on to do again?”

It was Beric’s turn to roll his eyes. “I work in meteorology. Weather forecasts and everything. I knew you wouldn’t remember.”

Renly just grinned at him, leaning lazily against the door and trying not to focus on the way that Loras and Beric’s thighs were touching. “Sure I remember,” he said. “It just slipped my mind momentarily. It’s been a long time after all.” He scratched his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Come to think of it, the last time we saw each other you’d just got engaged to Allyria.”

Beric gave a small almost sad smile. “Ah yes,” he agreed. “That didn’t end so well unfortunately.”

“Still better than Thoros,” Renly murmured. He wasn’t lying either. Thoros had been a little fat and just a little balding, and he’d been almost as much as an alcoholic as Robert was.

“Well yes, anything was better than Thoros,” Beric sighed. “He loved wine more than he loved me. Just took me years to realise it.”

Renly grinned and gestured to Loras. “Well you’ll have had loads of practice then if this one gets out of hand again.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “You bastard,” he muttered under his breath.

Renly smiled sweetly at him. For some reason, he got a kick out of teasing him in front of Beric.

Beric just laughed though and wrapped an arm around Loras’ shoulders, annoyingly affectionate. “You know old Red Ronnet’s getting married, Renly?” he said.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “ _No…?_ ” Renly had all but forgotten the existence of Red Ronnet, an extremely annoying boy who had spent the entire fourteen years of primary and secondary school trying to tag onto their friendship group. He refused to believe that anyone was willing to marry him. “Surely not? he laughed. “Are you invited?”

Beric shook his head. “Nah we lost touch ages ago. _Thank god_.”

It was then that Loras got up, unwrapping Beric’s arm from around his shoulders. “You know what,” he said, “Why don’t you guys catch up. I’m going out for a cigarette.”

Renly frowned as he shifted to let him through the doorway. “I thought you’d switched to e-cigarettes?” he asked suspiciously. The e-cigarette had definitely arrived after all; Renly had been the one who signed for it.

“I have,” Loras said simply, as he disappeared regardless into the kitchen, Ophelia at his heels, no doubt intending to go out the back door and light up on the step outside.

“He has not,” Beric laughed under his breath once he’d disappeared. “Well not entirely at least. He says they taste strange. But I reckon he’ll get there eventually.”

Renly just smiled. He perched on the arm of the sofa, thinking it would be a little weird if he took Loras’ recently vacated spot. “So how are you two getting on then?” he asked Beric. “You’re what, on your seventh official date now? Not counting brief walks in the park.”

“Yeah, I suppose we are,” Beric agreed quietly. “Eighth actually.” He paused and looked rather thoughtful. “Doesn’t feel like it though.”

Renly cocked his head. This really interested him. From what he’d seen in his short spying session, he and Loras had looked quite the couple. “No?” he asked, trying not to sound a little gleeful.

Beric paused; he looked a little troubled. “You won’t repeat this will you?”

“Course not,” Renly said. Chuckling to himself, he gave Beric a smile. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he added, thinking it appropriate.

Beric snorted at the childhood phrase, but then his face turned serious again and he looked up at Renly rather wearily. “Well, we’ve barely kissed,” he murmured, “let alone done anything else.”

“Really?” Renly sighed. He didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, part of him wanted to rejoice, but on the other, his heart swelled with pity for Loras. “Well, you know, maybe he wants to take stuff slow. He’s had a bit of a tough time over the last couple of years.”

Beric nodded. “I know,” he murmured, “But part of me can’t help but think he’s not that interested maybe. I can’t tell. He’s giving me very mixed signals.”

Renly cocked his head. It would be so easy, he knew, to just agree with Beric and let him think that Loras wasn’t at all interested in him. The devil on his shoulder was urging him to do it, to try and sabotage the relationship and help bring it to a premature end. The angel on the other shoulder, however, was forbidding him from going down that path, was insisting loudly that that would be a terrible thing to do.

Eventually the good part of him won out. “I couldn’t tell you,” he admitted to Beric with a sigh, listening out carefully for any sound of Loras returning. “He’s pretty private. Doesn’t tell me anything. Apparently I’ve got a big mouth.”

Beric smiled. “I see you haven’t changed from high school then.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to comment on that. “What did you mean by mixed signals though?” he asked, out of curiosity mainly.

Beric shrugged ever so slightly, a hand going to his hair to rifle anxiously through the strands. “I mean, he always seems eager to have me over, but when I kind of initiate something, it’s like he’s not interested.”

Renly frowned. “How do you know he’s not interested?”

Beric paused for a good few moments. “I can _feel_ that he’s not interested if you get what I mean.”

“Oh.” Renly didn’t know what to make of that and he crossed his arms, thinking. It wasn’t a problem that he had much experience with. “Well maybe he needs a little bit more… er… _direct stimulation?_ ”

Beric sighed. “Well I’d be lucky.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “And I’m not one of those guys who counts the dates before someone puts out. I’d be fine with him wanting to take it slow, I just wish he’d _talk_ to me about it. I just want to know where I stand. He’s like a closed book.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed. He didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t think Loras would exactly appreciate the two of them having this conversation. He felt a little guilty. He knew after all that it was mostly his fault that Loras was like this.

Beric looked a little troubled by his silence. “Is it just me?” he asked quietly. “Or is he always like this?”

Renly shrugged. “I don’t know,” he told him.

“Well how long was it before you and him went home together?” Beric pressed. “I’ll feel better if you tell me it was months.”

Renly sighed. “I think it was the fifth date actually,” he admitted. “But that was a long time ago. He was different then, more confident, and very very high on crack cocaine.”

“Yeah I know,” Beric murmured. He paused, looking pensive. “Is he even a top or a bottom?”

Renly laughed. “Why are you asking me this? Ask him.”

Beric looked up at him, a little imploring. “Come on,” he said, “for old time’s sake.”

“Fine,” Renly sighed. “He bottomed for me.”

“Always?” Beric seemed surprised, and even more surprised when Renly nodded. “Strange,” he said. “I’d have seen him as a top. He just seems like the sort.”

Renly shrugged. “Well ask him and see.” He couldn’t decide whether Loras would be more comfortable topping. On one hand, it might make him feel less vulnerable, but on the other, he’d be the one with greater responsibility for the other having a good time. He could see where Beric was coming from though; he too remembered being surprised when he’d first found out that Loras was willing to take the stereotypically submissive role in sex.

Beric sighed. “I suppose I could ask him,” he admitted. He leant his head back against the top of the sofa as if in defeat. “It’s just… well, he’s always happy to cuddle, and he seems to like that even, but he gets all moody and haughty whenever I try to take things a little further, or if I try to steer the conversation in that direction.”

Renly bit his lip. “He does?” He couldn’t say he was surprised. Loras wasn’t exactly good at communicating, and his pride was incredibly important to him. “Even when he’s been drinking?”

“He doesn’t drink,” Beric laughed softly. “I’ve never even seen him touch a drop. Whether it’s because he associates drinking, you know, with his _problem_ , or because he thinks I’ll get him pissed and shag him on the rug, I’ve no idea.”

Renly assembled his face into the best sympathetic expression that he could manage. Beric claimed not to know the answer to why Loras didn’t touch alcohol, but Renly did. He saw Loras drink on a regular basis. Not in very large quantities admittedly, but he’d often have a glass of wine here and there with a meal. That implied to Renly that it was a matter of control, that Loras wanted to be in control of his own feelings and his own body. Alcohol after all was something that affected his judgement, whereas sex was something that made him feel vulnerable.

He said nothing to Beric though. He didn’t think it his place.

 

* * *

 

Renly had escaped upstairs when Loras came back from his cigarette break, but he wasn’t yet in bed when he heard the front door close loudly downstairs. It was quickly followed by the sound of Loras’ footsteps on the stairs and the creak of his bedroom door opening.

Renly gave it a good quarter of an hour before he allowed himself to actually seek Loras out though. He didn’t want him to think after all that he’d been sitting upstairs and waiting for Beric to go home. Whilst that was definitely the truth of the matter, Renly didn’t think it cast him in a particularly good light. Especially not when he was still seeing Jon.

Loras was sat up in bed when he knocked on his door. He was in Satin’s jumper again, and Renly smiled to himself, flattered to see that Loras evidently still liked wearing what he thought were his clothes to bed.

“Sorry for interrupting tonight,” he laughed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Loras yawned. “I didn’t mind.” He had a tiny bit of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth and Renly had to pin his hands at his sides to stop himself reaching over and wiping it away.

“You know what, Loras,” he said, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “Shouldn’t you be wearing your boyfriend’s clothes to bed?”

Loras looked down at his jumper. “Suppose,” he mumbled. “But you don’t care do you? This doesn’t even fit you anymore does it?”

Renly grinned. “No it doesn’t,” he agreed. “To be honest actually, I’m not even sure that it’s mine.”

Loras frowned at his words. “It’s not?”

“Nah.” Renly scratched his head as if deep in thought, unable to resist teasing him a little. “In fact, are you sure it’s not yours? Perhaps your sister missed it when she came to collect your stuff that one time?”

Loras’ frown deepened and pulled the jumper over his head, turning it inside out to look for the label. He was shirtless underneath and Renly let his eyes roam over him. He wasn’t sure if Loras had actually been going to the gym or not, but he thought he could see a little more definition than usual.

It didn’t take Loras long to inspect the label and he looked almost a little put out when he had finished. “I can safely say that I don’t own anything from H&M,” he told Renly a little scathingly.

Renly shrugged, suppressing a smile. “Well I don’t think I do either,” he agreed. He brought his legs up onto the bed and crossed them. “I can’t think whose it is then.”

Loras’ forehead knitted. He was holding the jumper a little less lovingly now.

“Unless…”

“Unless what?” Loras asked, leaning forward a little.

“Unless it’s Satin’s?” Renly offered casually, voice perfectly even.

Loras looked horrified and he dropped the jumper quite quickly. “What?” he snapped.

Renly just laughed, relishing his expression. He rather wished he’d had a camera to hand to take a picture of it. “Come to think of it,” he grinned. “I do think I remember Satin having a grey jumper like that one.”

Loras glared at Renly; he wasn’t fooled. “You knew all along that it was Satin’s, didn’t you?” he muttered. Rolling his eyes, he lay down irritably, pulling the covers up to his shoulders.

Renly merely grinned and leant over him. “Whatever makes you say that?” he asked.

Loras just rolled his eyes again. He nudged the jumper off his bed onto the floor. “I’ll have it washed and then I’ll give it back to you,” he mumbled.

Renly couldn’t help but laugh now, and leaning over him yet further, he brushed a lock of hair out of Loras’ eyes. “Don’t be so sad,” he chuckled. “I’m sure Satin won’t mind if you wear it.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “ _I_ mind,” he muttered. He turned his face away from Renly.

“Well, I’m sure _Beric_ will be able to give you some of his clothes,” Renly pressed.

Loras just made a rather disgruntled sound, a sound which Renly suspected had nothing to do with the prospect of wearing Beric’s clothes and everything to do with the fact that he’d been lovingly wearing Satin’s jumper for the last couple of months.

Renly had just opened his mouth to tease him a little more when there a soft scratching at the door. It soon swung open and Ophelia trotted in, clearly very pleased with herself. It had taken her rather a long time to learn how to get upstairs but she’d properly mastered it now. It only took her a short sharp bark too before she had Loras dutifully reaching down to scoop her up and put her on the bed.

Renly rolled his eyes as he watched her settle down, her back moulding to the curve of Loras’ body. She was still only a young dog but she’d grown to be quite entitled. Loras of course spoilt her rotten.

“Don’t you mind her sleeping on your bed?” he asked.

Loras shrugged and reached down to scratch her ears. “I like her here,” he said simply.

Renly couldn’t understand it himself but he too stretched over to give her a pat. “Doesn’t she get in the way when you want to stretch out?” he laughed. He’d grown fond of her but he didn’t think he’d want her on his bed every night.

Loras shrugged though, unfazed. “It’s a double bed,” he said. “I have loads of room.”

Renly smiled, before it quickly changed into a smirk. “But don’t you want to snuggle with Beric instead?” he teased, raising an eyebrow at Loras a little cruelly.

Loras rolled his eyes. “You know, Ren, even though they say that teasing is a sign of affection, I really don’t enjoy it.”

Renly merely grinned at him. He moved further up the bed slightly, so that he could reach Ophelia’s silky ears too. “How’s it going with Beric anyway?” he asked. He tried his best to sound casual, to give no hint as to the conversation that he and Beric had had in his absence.

“Fine.”

That was a poor answer that gave nothing away and Renly bit back a sigh. He wanted more information than that. “Well do you like him?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Renly exhaled loudly, exasperated. This was like drawing blood out of a stone, a particularly reluctant stone even. “Well, do you _trust_ him?”

Loras shrugged. He seemed baffled by the question. “I don’t really trust anyone Ren,” he said bluntly. “Save for my family at least.”

That saddened Renly to hear and he cocked his head to the side. “That’s a shame.” he sighed. “Not even me?”

Loras gave him a tiny little smile that could mean anything. “Sometimes,” he said a little wickedly.

Renly snorted, amused. “But you do definitely like him?” he pressed again.

Loras nodded, his attention back on Ophelia as she nuzzled further into his side. “Yeah,” he said. “I just told you I did. He’s nice. Kind, I guess, and fun to be around.”

Renly chewed on his lip, a habit that he’d possibly picked up from Loras. “Are you going to take things further with him?”

Loras raised his head, hand halfway to Ophelia’s ears. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you know…”

Loras’ face immediately hardened. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Sure,” Renly agreed hurriedly. He got quickly off up the bed, knowing that he’d have had his tail between his legs had he been a dog. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Loras spoke just as Renly reached the doorway. “Why,” he asked softly. “Has Beric said anything to you about me?”

“Of course not,” Renly lied.


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I've been a little slow at replying to comments this week. I had a bit of an essay crisis... Will be better this week! You guys really do make my university term so much better! :D

Renly was glad when he was able to escape into his own bedroom and shut the door behind him. He felt particularly guilty now, and he wondered if Loras was currently lying in bed worrying about whether he was moving too slowly with Beric, whether Beric had mentioned to Renly that they hadn’t taken their relationship very far yet. Renly suspected that he probably was thinking all of those things and he felt terrible for it. He hadn’t intended to make Loras anxious.

He attempted sleep for about a quarter of an hour before giving up, and seeking a distraction more than anything, he pulled his phone out from under his pillow and scrolled down to Satin’s number. He’d been meaning after all to ring Satin for weeks now, to tell him that he’d left his jumper here, and yet it had kept slipping his mind.

It was late but Renly swiped a finger over the call button anyway, flicking on his bedside lamp and sitting up. It rang for a good long time, and Renly was just beginning to think that Satin had either gone to bed already or was on a night out when the sound of Satin’s voice echoed down the line.

“Hey,” Renly laughed, smiling despite himself. Satin always managed to sound so cheerful somehow, so carefree.

“You do realise, Renly, that it’s quarter past one right?” On the whole, Satin sounded amused, but at the same time he was speaking in hushed tones, his voice barely a whisper.

Renly chuckled, wondering where he was that would require him not to talk too loudly. He hoped to god that it wasn’t a library. “But you’re a student,” he protested. “It would be a crime to go to bed before two.” He grinned to himself at that, remembering his own university days. The memories were a haze of alcohol, sex and essay crises.

Satin made a rather disgruntled sound though. “Well you’re wrong,” he hissed. “I am in bed.”

Renly grinned and he raised a suggestive eyebrow even though nobody was around to see. “Alone?”

“No actually,” Satin murmured. “But she’s asleep.”

Renly arched his eyebrow further. He always managed to forget that Satin’s tastes were more varied than his own. “She?” he inquired.

“Mmm _she_ ,” Satin agreed softly. “It’s a very casual thing I’ve got going with one of the girls from my course. She’s lovely actually but not after anything serious.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve sworn off guys for at least a few weeks you see.”

Renly’s smile widened and he stretched lazily out across his bed. He was amused to hear such a statement come of Satin’s mouth and he had the sudden urge to laugh. He supposed though that this meant that things had gone downhill with Sansa’s brother. That was disappointing. He reckoned that it would be very amusing if Sansa ended up with Satin for a brother-in-law. “Not getting anywhere with your hot northern boy then?” he asked.

“Can you just give me a sec,” Satin whispered back. “I don’t want to wake my friend up.” There was the sound of movement and the rustling of clothes, during which Renly imagined Satin tiptoeing silently from the room. “No,” he said eventually, his voice a normal volume now. “He’s back with his redheaded girlfriend. Not that that stopped him getting off with me last week in Liquid.”

“Liquid?” Renly laughed.

“One of the clubs up here. You’d love it. Sticky floors and far too many people crammed into it. But yeah, he wasn’t even that drunk. I mean he’d had a _few_ drinks but he wasn’t wasted. I have no idea what signals he’s trying to send me.”

Renly smiled to himself, glad that this wasn’t a conversation they were having over skype. As sad as this all sounded for Satin, he couldn’t help but be amused. It was weird to think of Satin being caught up in petty university drama, where who kissed who on a night out was of the utmost importance. He’d have thought Satin too mature for it but he’d apparently adjusted very well to university life despite being twenty three and a little older than your average student.

“That sucks,” Renly agreed. Casting around his bedroom, he tried to find a silver lining. “But, if it helps, from what Sansa told me once, the redhead is very much out of his league. So maybe she’ll dump him again soon?”

Satin laughed. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “It makes me feel much better to know that everyone thinks the guy I like is such a catch.” He sighed heavily. “So what’s up with you then? More Loras drama I’m guessing? That’s usually the reason you phone me.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He didn’t blame Satin for jumping to that conclusion, but it irritated him all the same. Next time, he’d have to make a point of phoning Satin when absolutely _nothing_ was going on with Loras. “Actually,” he said lightly. “I was phoning you to tell you that you left one of your jumpers here. That nice grey one.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for that,” Satin laughed. “I assumed I’d lost it in the laundry room here or something, or that a certain someone had stolen it to secretly breathe in my scent at night after he’s had sex with his girlfriend.” He paused. “But you wouldn’t call at one in the morning over a jumper so what’s actually up?”

“Nothing’s up,” Renly insisted.

“Stop lying,” Satin said. Renly could practically _hear_ him rolling his eyes.

“I’m not lying,” Renly muttered but his heart wasn’t particularly in it this time. He hadn’t rung Satin explicitly for the purpose of ranting to him about Loras, but it was tempting all the same now. He always felt better after speaking to Satin. “I guess there is _some_ Loras stuff,” he admitted quietly. “It’s just that Loras is seeing s-“

“Well that would explain it then.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Let me finish, won’t you.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts coherently. “Loras has been seeing someone for like several weeks now, one of my old school friends actually, and I feel really guilty. My friend says that he’s literally reluctant to do anything, like literally _anything_.”

Satin sighed, and Renly suspected he was out in a corridor somewhere pacing, for the sound of his footsteps echoed down the phone. “Well I did tell you once that if you really want to hit a man where it hurts, the best way to do that is to insult his sexual prowess. I don’t really know what to say to you to make you feel better.”

Renly winced, his chest tightening. “I just can’t understand Loras’ reasoning here though. The idea of the two of them sleeping together makes my blood boil but _logically_ , it would do him good to be with someone again like that, to rebuild a little bit of confidence and everything. And surely Loras must know that too. I can’t see why he’s apparently so hostile to the idea? Not when the guy he’s seeing is so nice.”

Satin was quiet for a few moments. “Yeah but we just don’t know how he’s feeling, do we? I think there gets a point where it doesn’t matter how nice and understanding you think someone will be. Maybe he just wants to take it slow for a while, until he feels comfortable.” He laughed wryly then, the sound warm somehow. “Taking it slow’s not a crime you know, even if it does probably seem completely alien to you.”

“Says the _escort_ ,” Renly muttered under his breath.

Satin merely laughed though. “Actually,” he said mildly. “I seem to remember it was you practically begged me for sex on the first date.”

Renly grinned a little sheepishly. He remembered his first few dates with Satin well and not just because one of them had been interrupted by a very inconvenient overdose on Loras’ part. Even to this day, Renly didn’t think he’d ever been as desperate to get someone into bed as he had been with Satin.

“Well you were a merciless tease,” he mumbled, trying to defend himself. “And I hadn’t had sex in months. Literally months. Hadn’t got over Loras yet, you see.”

Satin snorted. “You hadn’t got over Loras _yet?_ You say that like it’s something that has happened since then.”

Renly squeezed his eyes tightly shut, pulling the covers up over his shoulders with his spare hand He didn’t bother to argue. “My point still stands,” he insisted. “My dry spell was drier than the Sahara desert and I was dating someone who flirted like a professional. Little did poor me know that you actually _were_ a professional.” He laughed. “And what did you have against sex on first dates anyway? Seems a little high and mighty coming from you.”

Satin made a sort of amused sound that was a little crackly through the phone. “I don’t have sex on first dates because it just feels like I’m working for free,” he explained. He yawned then, a rather endearing sweet sort of sound. “I mean, why would I sleep with a man that I just met for free instead of getting paid a couple of hundred quid for it? It always made sense to get to know the guy a little more first when I was actually dating.”

“Fair enough,” Renly laughed. Absent-mindedly, he wondered whether two hundred pounds was a figure Satin had merely pulled out of the air or whether that was actually what Satin charged. Despite his curiosity, he’d never dared ask. Satin, he knew, wasn’t overly fond of divulging too many details about what he did with his clients. He’d always been willing to give Renly a vague description here and there but there was definitely a degree of confidentiality too.

“We’re off topic,” Satin murmured. “You wanted to tell me about Loras.”

Renly sighed, leaning back against his pillows. “Mmm,” he agreed. “Well my friend, he’s said that Loras doesn’t really appear interested in the physical side of things, that even when things get going a little, Loras doesn’t…” Renly bit his lip, searching for the right way to phrase it. “Well he doesn’t _respond?”_

“He’s not hard?” Satin asked bluntly.

“Well that’s definitely what I understood,” Renly agreed. “And I can’t understand that. Loras has never had that sort of problem.”

“Didn’t he not get it up in that thing online?”

Renly had forgotten that and he closed his eyes, cringing a little. He’d never heard Satin reference that video before but it of course made sense that he’d seen it. Half the world after all had seen it, and for the first time perhaps, Renly thought he fully appreciated how impressive it was that Loras had managed to hold his head high in public at all after that. It had to be hard for him, Renly reckoned, to not to dwell on the fact that anyone and everyone could type his name into google and watch something that had been utterly humiliating for him.

“Yeah that’s true actually,” he admitted quietly, trying not to visualise the clip. “But that was drug induced; it’s not like a _real_ problem. It shouldn’t happen again should it?”

Satin sighed heavily. “Yes and no. I guess that means that it’s not an actual _physical_ problem, but it did happen once and that can be enough for some guys. People don’t think about these things logically.” He paused, taking another deep breath. “And unfortunately, if he’s at all anxious about it, it _is_ likely to happen again. It’s a vicious circle you see. It happens once, you get embarrassed, and then you get so paranoid about it happening again that it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. Combine that with the fact that Loras is probably worried his partner will find him boring or that he’ll laugh about him behind his back with you, you’ve got a recipe for performance anxiety.”

Renly winced. “Which is all my fault,” he said miserably. He was tempted to pull the covers up over his shoulders and hibernate there, just to escape how awful he felt.

“Maybe,” Satin agreed. “But you never know, it could be something else entirely. He’s still on loads of drugs isn’t he? Prescription ones I mean? Not cocaine?”

Renly shrugged. “I don’t know actually,” he admitted slowly. “He used to be. Anti-anxiety stuff and everything, anti-depressants. I don’t know if he’s stopped taking them yet or not.” He liked to _think_ that Loras had stopped taking them but he couldn’t be sure. Loras was very private about his medication; he was ashamed of it even, and Renly would never dare to ask. It was something that was sure to put him into a sulk.

“Well that’s the other possibility,” Satin murmured. “You’d be surprised how much of an effect some of those drugs can have on your sex drive and everything. For all you know it could actually be a physical problem rather than a mental one, or a combination of both.”

Renly closed his eyes wearily; he was starting to feel how late it was now. “How do you know all this stuff?” he yawned. “You’re doing geography, not medicine.”

Satin laughed wryly. “You see a lot of depressed people hiring escorts funnily enough.” He sighed, taking his time before he spoke again. “People like Loras used to make up a good portion of my clients actually.”

Renly frowned. “What do you mean _people like Loras?”_

“People who are lonely or depressed,” he sighed, “whose sexual self-esteem is so low that you have to shovel it off the floor. People who are terrified of rejection, I guess. That’s why a lot of people come to escorts, Renly. There’s no fear of rejection with us. We sit and listen because we’re paid to do so. And sometimes that’s _all_ we’ll do. We’ll sit and give someone who’s lonely a little bit of the intimacy they’re craving. And when we do do more, it’s often because some people find it’s less nerve-wracking than a real-life situation, because we’re there for the money rather than our own enjoyment.”

Renly cocked his head. Strangely, that made at least some sense. He wasn’t sure that Loras would have been convinced though and he laughed, shaking his head. “Well maybe I should tell my friend to hire him a prostitute then.”

Satin snorted. “Don’t joke,” he chuckled. “Some people are too proud to pay for sex and I imagine Loras Tyrell is one of them. And anyway, you’ve surely got to be pretty stupid to do something like that when you’re in the public eye. Some of my, er, _colleagues_ shall we call them aren’t particularly endowed with a moral compass.”

Renly laughed. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Loras would probably be furious if he knew I’d even joked about it.”

Satin murmured his agreement and there was a moment whether neither of them spoke.

“So what do you think he needs then?” Renly sighed. “It’s not like he doesn’t already have therapy or anything. He sees that counsellor of his more than he sees his family.”

Satin took a while to answer. “I guess he needs someone who he feels comfortable with, who he knows will let him take everything very slow and not laugh at him if things go wrong.”

“Which this guy is,” Renly protested. “He really is.”

“Then time, I suppose. Time heals everything eventually.”

 

* * *

 

 

For once, Satin had been able to offer Renly very little advice that he could actually act on, and so Renly simply tried not to dwell any more on Loras and Beric over the next couple of days. He tried to disassociate himself from whatever problems they might be having, to not get involved. He spent the next two evenings thus safely over at Jon’s, staying as later and later to avoid the risk of crossing paths with Beric again.

On the third day, however, Renly came downstairs to find that his kitchen already had someone in it and that his efforts to avoid Beric had been futile indeed.

“Well good morning,” Renly laughed a little awkwardly. The sound caught slightly in his throat. Beric was busy putting bread in the toaster, clad in a pair of Loras’ pyjamas, the top slightly too tight across the chest for him. His hair was rumpled from sleep and it couldn’t have been more obvious that he’d stayed the night. In some ways, that little fact should have soothed Renly’s guilty conscience; it should have assured him that he hadn’t ruined Loras’ confidence as much as he’d previously thought. In reality, however, that little fact made jealousy rise up in Renly’s throat and threaten to choke him. He didn’t particularly care whether the fact that Loras had let Beric stay over marked a huge leap for him.

“Morning,” Beric sighed back. “I hope you don’t mind me using your toaster.” For a man who had presumably fucked a supermodel last night, he didn’t sound particularly cheerful. He had a resigned sort of expression on his handsome face.

“Course I don’t mind you using the toaster,” Renly agreed. He ran a hand through his hair and went to sit down at the table. “I didn’t know you were here,” he added lightly.

“Yeah, we’d gone to bed by the time you came in last night,” Beric explained.

Renly forced a smile. He imagined that it wasn’t a particularly effective one. He reckoned that it probably looked like he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon and he was very glad that he didn’t have a mirror to hand.

“I was hoping I’d bump into you actually,” Beric confided. His voice was soft, tentative again, as if he knew he was treading on unsteady ground.

“You were?” Renly kept his tone light. He didn’t much fancy another heart to heart. Especially not when he was already painfully preoccupied with imagining what Beric and Loras may or may not have got up to yesterday evening.

Beric took a seat opposite him. “Yeah, I wanted to know if you’d maybe spoken to him? You know, about what we talked about the other day?”

“Er not really no,” Renly told him. That was truthful enough, he thought. He’d at least denied the fact that he and Beric had spoken when Loras had asked. “Why?”

“Well he had a change of heart yesterday.”

 _You don’t say,_ Renly wanted to mutter. “Did he?” he inquired politely.

“Yeah, suggested himself that I stay the night.”

Renly felt the colour drain from his face. For some reason, it hurt more to know that it had been Loras’ idea rather than Beric’s. It made him feel guiltier too and he wondered if it was because of his teasing that Loras had felt it necessary to invite Beric to share his bed with him. “And did he seem more into it this time?” he asked tentatively, gulping.

“Well nothing much really happened,” Beric murmured softly. “I just stayed over. You know, did the whole cuddling thing. Of course with the dog too.”

Renly could suddenly breathe properly again. “Well why did nothing much happen?” he asked. “Did you guys just not fancy it?”

Beric sighed and glanced out into the hall to check that Loras hadn’t come downstairs or anything. “Well, if you ask me,” he said quietly, “he let me stay because he felt he ought to, not because he actually wanted to. That’s why I wondered if you’d said anything to him.”

“Oh.”

Beric ran a hair through his hair. “I really just don’t think he’s interested.”

He’s nervous, is what Renly thought privately. “Did he not seem up for _anything_ then? Even when you were upstairs and everything?”

Beric closed his eyes briefly. “Not particularly. It was odd. He obviously _intended_ for us to have sex. He had a brand new box of condoms on his bedside table and everything, just in case I didn’t get the hint, but he didn’t give me any real indication that he wanted anything. He went through the motions all right but stiffly, like he was getting it over and done with. I felt awful, like I was taking advantage of him, like he was only making an effort for my sake.”

Renly bit back a sigh. His jealousy aside, he couldn’t help but feel quite sorry for Beric. He evidently didn’t know what to think of Loras’ rather topsy-turvy behaviour. “Was it you who suggested you guys stop then?” he murmured.

Beric sighed and laid his palms flat on the table. “Yeah. I mean, I thought it would be uncomfortable for both of us if we forced it and I don’t want to make him do anything that he doesn’t want to do. I just can’t understand it. He was _determined_ that we go upstairs, and bloody surprised when I said that we’d leave it there for the night, but at the same time, I’ve seen people get more excited over Eastenders than he seemed to be over me.”

Renly bit his lip contemplatively. He thought it necessary to intervene now, that it would be in Loras’ best interest even though it was a little embarrassing for him. “Don’t tell him I told you this,” he murmured. “But I think he’s probably nervous rather than simply not interested in you.”

His toast had popped up now but Beric made no move to retrieve it. He merely cocked his head to the side. “Nervous?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Renly sighed, “nervous to get his clothes off, nervous to perform. He’s not as confident as you might expect, and I think he worries about falling flat of expectations.”

Beric sighed heavily, and resting his elbows on the table, put his head in his hands. He looked terribly weary all of a sudden, much older than his twenty eight years. “I don’t know what to say, Renly,” he whispered eventually. “He’s lovely but I just don’t know...”

Renly’s heart broke a little for Loras then and he forgot his jealousy almost immediately. “What do you mean?” he asked softly. This was not what he’d ever wanted. It was Loras who was supposed to have doubts, not Beric.

“Well he’s just got so much baggage,” Beric sighed, his eyes sad somehow. “He’s been in and out of rehab, he’s clearly dependant on antidepressants, you’ve just told me he’s nervous about intimacy.” He looked up from the table then, meeting Renly’s gaze. “And you know what, I could deal with all that and happily deal with it too, if that was where it ended, but that’s not even the real problem here.”

Renly frowned. “What’s the problem then?”

“The problem?” Beric murmured. “Is that he’s clearly still in love with you.”

Renly shut his eyes tightly, wincing. He wished desperately that the ground would swallow him up, that he’d sink into the floor and disappear, and yet when he opened his eyes, he was still sat at the kitchen table with Beric and the mournful expression was still on his face.


	74. Chapter 74

Beric’s words still rung in the air and yet Renly stayed silent. His mouth seemed clamped shut, as if someone had padlocked it closed, and he could only gulp painfully as he searched for something to say.

“Well are you going to deny it?” Beric asked quietly, eyes meeting Renly’s across the table. There was no accusation in his words, just a simple question.

Renly said nothing still. He didn’t know what he _could_ say. His silence would already have incriminated Loras and even if it hadn’t, Renly wasn’t sure if he could have brought himself to lie.

“No,” he said eventually. “I’m not going to deny it.” He loved Loras too much to deny it.

Beric closed his eyes. He looked wearier still, and his shoulders seemed to sag. “Okay,” he said. “I’m glad you were honest.”

Renly bit back a sigh and stared miserably down at his hands. “How did you know?” he whispered to the table. He couldn’t bear to look at Beric. He felt somehow ashamed, like it was his fault that Loras had failed so wholly at moving on from him. In some ways it probably was, Renly realised painfully. He should have been the one to be the bigger person, to take the moral high ground and insist that they didn’t spend so much time together. He should have been the one making the decisions that Loras clearly couldn’t.

Beric took his time answering Renly’s question but eventually he sighed heavily. “You know what we spend most of our dates talking about?” he murmured. “You, Renly. And you should see his face when he’s talking about you. He sort of lights up. It’s almost beautiful to see really.”

Renly continued staring down at his hands. He felt embarrassment creep into his cheeks. It was only after a few moments that he managed to force himself to raise his head and meet Beric’s gaze again.

“If you’re going to stop seeing him,” Renly murmured, “don’t do it today.”

Beric took a deep breath. “Why not?”

Renly swallowed with difficulty. “Because he’ll be feeling vulnerable already about last night,” he implored. “That was the first time he’s invited a guy into his bedroom in literally ages. Don’t let it turn out like that. It was a big step for him to let you get that close to him.”

Beric nodded slowly.

“And be gentle, won’t you?” Renly added desperately. “He’s really quite fond of you.” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “And he’s really quite fragile.”

Beric just put his head in his hands.

It was only when several minutes passed in silence that Renly got up from the table to excuse himself. Beric evidently had nothing more to say to him. Indeed, he seemed lost in thought, and Renly wondered if he was trying to desperately compose himself, if he was busy bracing himself to return upstairs to Loras and be all smiley.

Renly didn’t envy him that task at all, and his own heart felt terribly heavy in his chest as he wearily climbed the stairs to get changed for work.

He had meant to go straight to his bedroom, but fatefully, Beric had left the door to Loras’ room ajar. Unable not to, Renly peered through the gap a little miserably. Loras was still asleep in bed, curled up with Ophelia pressed against his chest. He looked so peaceful and Renly felt sorrow rise up for him in his chest. Loras didn’t yet know that Beric was downstairs fretting over how not to hurt him.

There were indeed a box of condoms on Loras’ bedside table, placed very conspicuously next to what Renly assumed was a bottle of lube. Renly wondered wearily how Loras managed to get hold of such items. It wasn’t as if Loras could walk into a shop like any normal person would, not unless he _wanted_ to broadcast to each and every tabloid that he was planning on getting laid that evening. He supposed Loras had probably had to order them online or something, and that thought made Renly feel a little sad somehow. Loras had evidently had to plan Beric’s overnight stay in advance; it had been something he’d spent time preparing for. Renly didn’t know why that made his chest swell with pity.

Sighing, he made to pull the door to behind him. Ophelia’s ears twitched at that though and she disentangled herself from Loras’ sleeping form, stretching before jumping down off the bed. Tail wagging furiously, she threw herself at Renly’s legs, begging to be fussed over.

It was very wearily that Renly bent to pick her up. He stroked her ears a little absent-mindedly before he placed her firmly back on Loras’ bed.

“Stay,” he whispered at her. “He’s going to need you.”

 

* * *

 

Beric waited three days to break up with Loras and Renly could tell that he’d bitten the bullet and done it as soon as he came in from work that evening. Instead of waiting for him in the kitchen like he always did, Loras was shut up in his bedroom and he didn’t even come down when he heard Renly come in. It was a sure sign that something was wrong and Renly felt his heart fill with dread.

It was tentatively that Renly climbed the stairs to seek him out. Knowing what he knew, he didn’t exactly want to speak to Loras right now, but he knew that Loras would think it strange if he didn’t even pop his head in to say hi.

When he reached Loras’ door he paused, trying to listen. He could only hear the low hum of the TV though and definitely no sobbing, and yet even so he knocked very warily.

The permission to come in was mumbled at best, and when Renly pushed open the door he had to sigh to see that Loras had certainly seen better days. He was sat up in bed in front of a laptop that was doubling as a TV, surrounded by tissues. His eyes were slightly red, and his curls looked practically wild, like they’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Ophelia was on his lap though, and whilst Renly personally reckoned that this was unlikely, she seemed to sense that Loras was upset. She had her head rested most tenderly on his knee.

“Hey Loras,” Renly murmured. “What’s the matter?” He of course already knew what the matter was, but Loras could never be allowed to be aware of that.

“I’ve been dumped, Ren.”

“Oh.” Renly winced. “Well I’m sure he didn’t put it quite like that did he?”

Loras sniffed loudly, gathering all the tissues around him and shoving them in a pile on his bedside table. “No,” he muttered, “but it’s true anyway.”

Renly sighed heavily, feeling very awkward stood in the doorway. “Did he say why?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And did you think his reasons fair?”

Loras shrugged. “Yeah.”

Renly bit his lip. He couldn’t quite gauge how Loras was feeling about this. On one hand he’d clearly been crying, but on the other he’d evidently stopped at one point. Renly got the feeling that it wasn’t particularly Beric leaving that had upset him but the failure of the relationship in general. “Are you upset?” he asked.

Loras shrugged again. “I don’t know, Ren,” he mumbled. “I don’t really want to think too much about it. And I’ll have to go through it all anyway with my counsellor on Wednesday anyway.” He reached a hand down to stroke the dog. “She’ll be really disappointed,” he said. “She thought it was great that I was seeing someone, that it was a sign of me really making _progress_.” He spat that word a little bitterly.

Renly didn’t know what to say to that so he merely walked round to Loras’ side of the bed and perched down on the edge next to him. Sighing, he swept the pile of tissues that Loras had made on his bedside table into the bin. As he did so, he could see that both the box of condoms and bottle of lube had already been chucked in there, no doubt in a fit of rage or frustration on Loras’ part. There was something quite sad about that, Renly thought. It was clearly a very defeatist attitude that Loras had. He also had his question about what medication Loras still took answered. Carelessly for once, Loras had left the packets on his bedside table. It appeared that he hadn’t yet been weaned off any of them.

Renly knew he wouldn’t want him looking though and so he tried not to stare too much. Instead, he turned back to Loras and laid a hand on his arm.

Loras closed his eyes at that and he leant heavily against Renly’s shoulder. “Ren,” he sighed. “Are you in tonight?”

Renly paused. He was supposed to be going out with Jon and they had the restaurant booked and everything. He knew too that Jon would be beyond pissed off if he cancelled on him in favour of staying at home. He made the mistake then of looking down at Loras though, still leaning heavily against his shoulder. He looked miserable and it was clear that he needed him tonight.

“I can be,” he said eventually.

Loras nodded and raised his head. “Can we watch a movie or something then? Make some popcorn?”

“Course we can,” Renly told him. “Just give me a minute then. I’ll put some pizzas in the oven or something.”

Renly waited until he was out of the room before getting out his phone and dialling Jon’s number. He crossed his fingers as it rang, hoping that Jon would be in a good mood this evening. Somehow, he had a feeling that even if Jon had been in a good mood before his call, he certainly wouldn’t be after.

“Hey,” he sighed when Jon picked up. “I’m really sorry but I’m not going to be able to do tonight after all.”

“What came up?” Jon asked.

Renly paused, realising he should have figured out what to say _before_ ringing Jon. He considered lying but he’d have to mention to Jon at some point that Loras and Beric had split up, and he imagined that Jon would put two and two together. “Loras and that guy he’s seeing have split up,” he admitted. “He’s really upset.”

There was a long silence on the other end. “Seriously, Renly?” he asked.

Renly winced and carried on down the stairs. “What do you mean?” He knew exactly what Jon meant.

“Well doesn’t Loras have any other friends aside from you? You know, ones who don’t already have plans?”

Renly sighed heavily, and reaching the fridge, located two pizzas to shove in the oven. “Not really no,” he admitted. “And I’m really sorry. It’s just I don’t want to leave him by himself tonight.”

There was another long pause. “Fine,” Jon said wearily. “Do what you think necessary.” He sighed. “I’ll see you later this week then. I’ve got to go now, have another half an hour in the office.”

His tone said everything that his words didn’t and Renly cringed. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he said. “I really will.”

Jon just murmured his agreement and promptly hung up.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras looked a little downtrodden when Renly came back in with the two pizzas on trays for them. He had his head in his hands and the covers pulled up to his shoulders. He looked like he’d cocooned himself in blankets.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured when he saw Renly.

“Do what?” Renly smiled. He placed one of the trays on Loras lap and suddenly realised one of the many inconveniences of having a dog. Ophelia beelined for Loras’ pizza immediately and would have had it too if Loras hadn’t pulled her back by the scruff of her neck.

“Cancel seeing Jon,” Loras said quietly. “You could have just told me you had plans. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Renly shrugged. “This is what friends are for,” he insisted. He sat down on Loras’ bed too, having to shield his own pizza from Ophelia now. She wasn’t as obedient with him as she was with Loras and Renly had to resort to eating at a very strange angle, protecting his meal with his shoulder.

“You know why we split up don’t you?” Loras murmured after a while, once he’d stopped bothering even to pick at his food.

“Well, I have some idea,” Renly admitted, placing his own now empty tray on the floor and wincing when he saw Ophelia jump down to scavenge his left-over crusts from it. He soon forgot all about her though, for he risked looking at Loras’ face then and his heart broke to see how miserable he looked. He was staring blankly at the wall, his eyes a little unfocused.

“It’s my fault,” Loras mumbled. “Should have tried harder to make him feel I liked him.” He bowed his head then, staring down at his knees. “And I shouldn’t have spoken about you so much.”

“Oh Loras.”

Loras gulped. “It’s just that it’s hard you know? I don’t really do much nowadays, and besides talking about you and the dog, I don’t really have much to talk _about._ He’d ask me about my day and I’d have nothing much to tell him.” His voice hitched then, wobbling slightly and Renly moved closer, wishing he could find some way to comfort him. As it was though, he just laid a hand on Loras’ arm.

“Actually scrap that,” Loras whispered. “That’s not the reason I talk about you at all.”

Renly bit back a sigh. He knew the reason. Both he and Loras knew the reason; it didn’t need to be voiced out loud though. His resolve broke then and he edged closer still, wrapping an arm around Loras’ shoulders.

“Come here,” he murmured.

Loras sniffed and moved his tray to his bedside table before taking Renly up on his offer of affection. He leant heavily against him, sinking down slightly so that he could press his face into the crook of Renly’s neck. His hair was soft against Renly’s jaw despite being tangled and Renly breathed in the smell of him a little longingly. He always forgot how lovely it felt to have Loras here, how good it was to have Loras tucked into his chest like this. It always felt like he belonged there, and now that he wasn’t skin and bone, he almost seemed to fit against Renly like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

It was a slow transition that they made to lying down, and Renly found that it was very hard to hug him when Loras was trapped underneath the covers and he wasn’t. Sighing, he climbed in next to Loras, rewrapping his arms around him, more tightly this time. Without the covers in the way, Renly could hold him properly now. This was something that Renly had told himself months ago that he couldn’t do, that it was something that was unfair to Jon, but he cared more about Loras right now.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to cuddle anymore,” Loras breathed, voice wavering in a wobbly echo of Renly’s thoughts.

“Mmm,” Renly agreed quietly. “I’m making an exception.” Exhaling softly, he leant his head on top of Loras’, feeling Loras sigh too against his neck, the puff of air warm against his skin. That was a nice feeling and Renly smiled, closing his eyes. That smile was wiped off his face, however, when just a few moments later, he felt the hint of tears against his skin instead.

“Hey,” he murmured, shifting to look down anxiously at him. “It’s going to be okay. Beric’s not the only guy in the world.” He lifted a hand to Loras’ hair and cradled the back of his head, fingers knotting in his curls.

Loras raised his head. “It’s not that,” he whispered hoarsely, wiping his tears on his sleeve as if he were ashamed of them. “I’m just…”

“Just what?”

Loras squeezed his eyes shut. “I guess I’m just tired of feeling like this.”

Renly bit his lip. “What do you mean?” he asked. He moved his hand back down to rest in the small of Loras’ back, the cotton of his t-shirt soft against his fingers.

“I just wish I could move on, Ren,” Loras gulped, his eyes wet again. “What’s wrong with me? Everyone else seems to. Beric was _nice_ ; I should have been able to be happy with him.”

Renly said nothing. He just held him tighter still. That did nothing to stop Loras’ tears though and Renly felt his heart break. There was nothing he hated more than feeling powerless, than seeing Loras upset and being able to do little or nothing about it.

“It’s going to be okay, Loras,” he murmured.

Loras wiped his eyes with a furious hand. “I know,” he whispered. His voice hitched. “But I just love you so much.”

“I know, sweetie.” Renly tried to cradle the back of his head again with a hand but it was batted away.

“Don’t call me that,” Loras almost snapped. “You only do it when you think I’m about to cry.”

Renly sighed heavily. He knew how much Loras hated pet names. “But you _are_ crying,” he pointed out softly.

Briefly, Loras scowled at him. He could evidently think of no way to defend against that accusation though and so he merely sniffed and buried his face in Renly’s neck again. It was almost an act of surrender and he let Renly slip a hand into his curls this time without complaint.

“You won’t feel like this forever,” Renly whispered into his hair.

Loras’ head jerked up. “But what if I do?” he asked. There was something desperate about the look in his eyes, like that of a madman.

Breathing deeply, Renly stroked his curls, trying to calm him down. “You won’t,” he soothed. “Feelings don’t last forever.”

Loras merely screwed his eyes up, uncomforted. “Maybe they’ll fade,” he agreed, “and maybe one day I’ll wake up and it won’t hurt quite so much, but I don’t think they’ll ever _go away_.”

Renly sighed. “I do wish things had been different,” he admitted.

Loras gazed up at him, tears swimming again in his eyes and turning the brown irises to molten gold. “Why?” he asked.

“Well I hate seeing you like this,” Renly told him. “This is evidently hard for you, and I don’t like seeing you upset.”

That evidently hadn’t been the reply Loras had been hoping for and hurt flickered across his handsome face.

“And it’s hard for me too,” Renly conceded with a sigh. That was a dangerous answer, he thought, but it was the true one.

Loras bit down on his lower lip. “It is?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Renly whispered softly, wrapping his arms round him again. “I mean, I’ve got a boyfriend, Loras, and yet sometimes, all I want to do is just stay here with you, and hug you, and…” He paused. Despite his best efforts, his eyes lingered on Loras’ lips. They were slightly wet with his tears, the bottom one dimpled from how Loras was biting down on it.

“And what?” Loras breathed.

“Kiss you I guess,” Renly admitted quietly.

Loras’ eyes met his. There was so much in his expression; sadness and fear, wariness, but also a glimmer of hope. He cocked his head. “You do?”

“Mmm,” Renly murmured. He ran a finger along Loras’ jawline. “Sometimes I do.”

Loras said nothing. He just shivered under Renly’s touch.

“ _Often_ I do,” Renly corrected.

Loras closed his eyes then and Renly bridged the gap between them. He felt Loras sigh against his lips and immediately forgot to care about the consequences.


	75. Chapter 75

It was barely a press of lips, and yet Renly felt a shiver of electricity run down his spine, curling his toes and making his hair stand on end. He slipped a hand into Loras’ hair, urging him closer, and when Loras responded it felt like the last two years had slipped away. He could convince himself almost that those two years had been nothing but a bad dream, a long drawn out nightmare that he’d just woken up from, and that he’d open his eyes to find that Loras was still twenty-one, brash and blond and still at the height of his career.

That was a fantasy though, and those lost two years were evident in Loras’ posture, in the hesitant way that he’d slid a hand round to cup the back of Renly’s neck, in the fact that they were kissing more chastely than a pair of children.

Loras groaned when Renly finally ran his tongue against the seam of his lips, and he opened his mouth to let him kiss him properly. The hesitance between them was gone now. Renly’s fingers knotted in Loras’ hair; Loras tilted his face to give Renly better access, and Renly knew that they were past the point of no return. This was a proper kiss, one that Renly couldn’t merely dismiss to Jon as a childish peck of affection. 

“Jon will never forgive me,” Renly whispered, the words a sigh into the warm, wet cavern of Loras’ mouth. “But…” He forced Loras’ mouth open further, tasting him on his tongue, sucking on his lower lip. His hands migrated to Loras’ back, to the curve of his arse, his fingers pressing into skin through soft fabric. He wanted this and he wanted it badly, and panting, Renly tried gently to slip his fingers underneath some of that fabric, desperate to run his hands across bare skin, to touch without clothes getting in the way.

He was confused when Loras drew back from him, and when he opened his eyes, he was startled to see that Loras’ face was troubled, sad somehow. Taking a ragged breath, Renly leant in to kiss him again, only to be pushed back by a hand on his chest this time. 

“What is it?” Renly whispered urgently, heart pounding in his chest as he tightened his hand in Loras' curls. “This is what you want isn’t it?”

It was. Renly could see it in his eyes, see it in the way Loras’ fingers were holding softly onto his shirt, in the way that he was tilting towards him as if by gravitational pull.

And then slowly, Loras looked away. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “You should go make your dinner with Jon,” he mumbled.

Renly flinched. “What?” he blinked.

Loras sighed, closing his eyes and tugging Renly’s hand wearily out of his hair. “I said you should go,” he repeated.

Renly wondered if he’d misheard. “Do you not want this?” he breathed.

Loras scowled at him. “You know bloody well I want this. Now get out of my room.”

Renly got to his feet, bewildered. “Shouldn’t we at least talk about this?” His conscience was catching up with him now and he bit his lip, wondering how he'd managed to make this mistake again. He was supposed to be the smart one of the two of them after all. 

“I said _go,"_ Loras hissed. 

 

* * *

 

Renly felt disorientated and more than a little terrible when he met Jon outside the restaurant they’d booked for the evening, just twenty minutes later than they’d originally planned. His conscience was whirling, making his head spin, threatening to drown him like a whirlpool. He wondered if he smelled like Loras, if Jon would lean in and taste his guilt on his tongue. But most of all he wondered what Loras was doing at home, if he was sobbing across his bed or if he was busy punching brick walls somewhere.

He stammered and stuttered his way through the starters, as far removed from his usual eloquent self as his conscience was from clean. Every gulp of wine seemed to stick in his throat and whilst most of his guilt was directed at his conduct towards _Loras_ , he was still struck a thousand times over with the desperate urge to confess to poor Jon sat opposite, to come clean.

Usually, he might not have felt so guilty. It wasn’t as if anything had really happened after all. It was just a kiss, the most petty form of cheating possible. But it was a kiss with _Loras_ and Renly knew that that would make all the difference to Jon. It was no drunken mistake, no fumble in the dark with a stranger, it _meant_ something, and for that reason, Renly almost threw himself to grovel at Jon’s feet.

 He would have done too had he known what he wanted. The fairest option after all would be to grovel and give Jon the pleasure of kicking his sorry arse to the curb, with a snapped _I told you_ so just for good measure. But coming home to Loras single again would send him a message that was loud and clear and very very dangerous. Part of Renly was telling him that such a route was inevitable now, that there were no options left to them but to have another go. It was a prospect that still filled Renly with terror though. Any relationship born out of infidelity was always cursed to be messy, and that was without even taking into account the issues that he and Loras would have to tackle between them. 

He was distracted all evening, agitated and fretful, but if Jon noticed that something was wrong, he said nothing. He did look a little worried though, and when Renly climbed into the taxi that would take him home, Jon patted him on the shoulder and told him that he hoped he'd feel better in the morning. Somehow Renly doubted that this would be the case. 

Renly climbed the stairs warily when he was back, stealing up each step like a silent burglar, crossing his fingers that Loras would have gone to bed. His blood ran a little cold in his veins when he saw that the door to Loras' room had been left ajar though, a shaft of dim lamplight escaping through the gap and illuminating the landing. Terror filled Renly’s heart, and feeling like he was stepping into the brightest of spotlights, he tried to creep past the doorway past without Loras noticing.

He was apparently out of luck. 

“Nice time?” a quiet voice asked. 

Renly froze; he'd been caught. “Mmm yeah,” he mumbled quickly. “Was fine.”

Loras was silent to that and Renly quickly hurried to his own room, his footsteps clumsy now in his haste. Somehow, he imagined that Loras had been expecting him to say something else entirely.

 

* * *

 

Renly fretted coming home from work the next day, and whilst he’d prayed to every god he knew that Loras would be out, he came home to find that Loras was sat in the living room as usual, his nose buried in some kind of leaflet. Unless Renly went straight up the stairs to his bedroom, something which he reckoned was inconceivably rude, he had no choice but to face him. Renly wondered if this was some desperate attempt on Loras’ part to ensure that they carried on as if nothing had happened or if it was just maybe that Loras got some kind of justified kick out of torturing him.

He was almost convinced of the former when, upon opening the door, Ophelia bounced up to him as usual, evidently completely unaware of the tension between the two men in the room. It was then that Renly fully realised the merits of having a pet; unlike humans they didn’t judge. Ophelia didn’t know how much of a prick he’d been last night, she only knew that Renly sometimes slid her pieces of toast at the breakfast table, and Renly was grateful for that.

Loras on the other hand was a different story. He had barely even looked up when Renly entered. He was sat with his face turned slightly away from Renly, indifference and disinterest plastered across his expression. Renly didn’t blame him, and it was tentatively that he approached him.

“Hey,” he murmured. A bit closer, he could see what Loras was reading. It was a booklet produced by the London College of Fashion, and Loras was currently admiring a strange black and orange creation that had apparently been designed by one of their students.

“Hey,” Loras mumbled back.

Renly took a deep breath. He couldn’t tell if Loras was properly angry at him or just a little miffed. “Look Loras,” he sighed, “about last night...”

Loras looked up from whatever he was reading. “Mmm?” His tone matched his expression and yet Renly wondered whether if the nonchalance was very carefully feigned. He wouldn’t have put it past Loras. His pride after all was very important to him. 

Biting back a sigh, Renly tried to formulate his words. He knew after all that he wanted to steer clear of anything that involved him feeling sorry for Loras. He imagined that that would push Loras over the edge quicker than bullets left some guns.

“Yesterday was really inappropriate of me,” Renly murmured, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back. “I took advantage of the fact that I thought you wanted that and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Okay.” Loras just turned back to the booklet on his lap.

Renly grimaced. He wondered if Loras would deign to talk to him in more than monosyllables today. “I’m sorry if that’s not what you expected me to say,” he added desperately.

Loras closed his eyes. “No actually, that’s exactly what I expected you to say.”

Renly winced. That made him feel yet worse. He’d obviously proved to Loras that he was an idiot too many times now for Loras to expect anything else. Sighing, he sat down next to Loras. He was determined to dissipate the tension between them and that meant talking about what had happened rather than just brushing it under the rug like they both wanted.

“Why did you make me leave last night, Loras?” he murmured. “Honestly?”

Loras’ brow furrowed as if the answer to that question was obvious. “Because I knew you’d regret it?”

“Oh Loras.”

Loras just stared down at his booklet, licking his finger before turning a page. “You must like Jon. You’ve been dating him for months now. It seemed stupid to throw all that away just for a quick shag with me.”

Renly swallowed. He didn’t think that was quite true. He suspected part of the reason he was dating Jon was to have a decent excuse _not_ to date Loras. Jon was nice, he was pleasant, but he also provided a much needed shield between him and Loras.

“I’m grateful Loras,” he sighed, “but it’s my job to be faithful. Not yours. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Loras turned his nose up and finally put down what he was reading. “Well it wouldn’t have been too pleasant for me too either,” he muttered. “You’d have been frantic by morning, guilty and feeling awful. And I’d have sat in bed watching you hurriedly dress and trying to work out the best way you could lie to Jon about what had happened.”

Renly sighed. “I wouldn’t have lied to him, you know.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “I had assumed you’d lied to him last night actually.”

Renly screwed his face up. “Well it’s _different_ ,” he implored. “It was only a kiss. Hardly anything to get worked up about.” He wondered if Loras saw through the complete and utter lie in his words.

Loras shrugged. “Fine,” he conceded. “Perhaps you wouldn’t have lied. But it wasn’t much better to picture you insisting it was a mistake either, that you regretted it.” He ran a hand through his hair and his distress finally penetrated his show of indifference. “I could imagine you telling him that it was a mistake, something which didn’t mean anything.” He paused, biting his lip. “But it wouldn’t have meant nothing to me. It would have meant too much to me.” He laughed wryly.” And I do have _some_ self-preservation you know.”

Renly closed his eyes. “I know you do,” he murmured. He put his head in his hands; he didn’t know what he’d have told Jon but he felt terrible all the same.

“And nobody wants to be a mistake,” Loras sighed. “I didn’t want to be _your_ mistake. Not again.”


	76. Chapter 76

Renly knew it was a poor attempt at an apology but he cooked Loras dinner anyway. He tried to make it an extra special one too, popping to the shops for the most expensive steak he could find and splashing out on two luxury chocolate desserts. He tried to make the plates look as nice as possible as well, even arranging the vegetables in an aesthetically pleasing but useless spiral and drizzling the red-wine gravy over everything in an artful crisscross.

He brought it up to Loras on his nicest tray, with an ice cold coca cola to go with it seeing as wine would have been far too romantic.

Loras was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom when Renly came in, poring over the same leaflets that he’d been looking at earlier. He glanced up when Renly entered, and even managed a rather unenthusiastic smile.

“You didn’t have to make me dinner,” he murmured.

Renly shrugged, closing the door behind him firmly so that Ophelia wouldn’t be able to bother them while they were eating. “I was a dick yesterday,” he said. “Dicks should have to make the dinner.” He placed Loras’ tray on the floor in front of him and sat down beside him with his own. For obvious reasons, he felt much more comfortable sat on the floor than he would have done if Loras had been sat up in bed; the floor didn’t hold as much romantic appeal as beds did.

“So what you looking at so intently?” Renly asked once he’d got himself as comfortable as possible on the floor. He gestured to the leaflets that Loras had spread out in front of him. Loras wasn’t much of a reader after all; seeing him read voluntarily was always a curious event.

Loras looked cagey for a moment, as if he were debating about whether he wanted to tell Renly or not. “I’m thinking of applying to design school,” he said eventually, voice a little flat. He nudged the leaflet towards Renly. “At the London College of Fashion.”

Renly raised an eyebrow; he hadn’t been expecting that. It was a very welcome surprise though considering that it allowed them to talk about something that wasn’t how badly he’d screwed up yesterday. Interested, he took a look at the leaflet that Loras had just passed him. It was open at a page on fashion design and Renly skim-read through it. “Well why not,” he said once he’d reached the bottom of the page. “You’d be pretty great at this.”

“Well yeah I think so too,” Loras agreed, delightfully smugly.

Renly smiled and flicked through it a little more. “It says here that though that you need two A-Level passes at grade C or above and three passes at GCSE,” he said. “You don’t have any of that. Or at least you don’t _yet._ ” Loras would hopefully have at least two of the three GCSEs he needs by June. He wondered if entry requirements even applied to supermodels though. Somehow he reckoned that Loras would be worth his weight in gold simply through free publicity and promotion.

Indeed, Loras seemed unfazed. He shrugged. “Read on.”

Renly duly skimmed his eyes further down the page. “Exceptionally,” he read aloud, “applicants who do not meet these course entry requirements may still be considered if the course team judges that the application demonstrates additional strengths and alternative evidence.” He took a deep breath. “This might, for example, be demonstrated by: related academic or work experience; the quality of the personal statement; a strong academic or other professional reference; or a combination of these factors.”

“I reckon I’ll be fine,” Loras said. “I have kinda a lot of ‘work experience’.” He sighed. “You know, in June I’ll have been working for a whole decade.”

Renly laughed. Loras put him to shame; he’d only been working properly for six and a half years. “I dare say you will be fine then,” he agreed. “They probably won’t even bother asking you for a reference.”

“I very much doubt it,” Loras agreed. He shrugged. “And anyway, if they do need a reference, I’m sure Valentino or someone will do one for me. He thinks I’m great. And I’ve got my portfolios and everything.”

“Well I think it’s a great idea,” Renly told him. Putting the leaflets back onto the floor, he tucked into his steak before it got cold.

Loras seemed to have little interest in his food and he sighed heavily. “You’re not saying that just because I’m mad at you, are you?”

Renly winced, swallowing his mouthful of mashed potato. “Actually no, I’m not. I think you’d be genuinely good at this.” It was the truth, but admittedly, Renly reckoned that even if it wasn’t, he’d have lied through his teeth to get back into Loras’ good graces. He could understand why Loras was doubting him right now.

Loras just shrugged and turned to his food silently. He seemed melancholy somehow, and Renly suspected that last night was still playing on his mind. He also suspected that last night had definitely contributed to Loras’ sudden interest in this fashion college; he imagined that Loras might have had his eyes opened rather painfully to the fact that he had little to nothing in his life right now.

Renly finished his meal without really having noticed eating any of it. It was only when his fork scraped the empty plate loudly that he realised he’d wolfed it all down before Loras had even finished cutting his steak into elegant bite size pieces. Sighing, he rifled through the remainder of the leaflet Loras had handed him. Aside from the course descriptions and entry requirements, it was filled with pictures of clothes, clothes and more clothes, and Renly smiled to see that Loras had folded over the pages of his favourite creations. Renly reckoned he’d have picked the same ones too and it made him feel a little warm and fuzzy inside to know that he and Loras had similar taste.

He reached the end of the leaflet quickly though and casting around Loras’ room for more distraction, another item on the floor caught his eye. It was an open book and Renly edged closer, shuffling across the floor until he could see that the item in question was actually a photo album, a very familiar photo album in fact. It had once belonged to Renly’s mother.

Cocking his head, Renly picked it up. He’d long forgotten that he’d given Loras this, or rather, that he’d given it to Margaery to give to Loras on his behalf. It was open now on a picture of the two of them outside a restaurant in London, arms wrapped around each other’s waists. He was smiling at the camera, but Loras was looking at him, his face tilted up to Renly’s and spread in a wide smile. They made an impossibly handsome couple but what struck Renly most was how _happy_ they looked. Loras was practically beaming, a rare expression for him at the best of times, and Renly’s chest tightened painfully. Everything had seemed so much simpler back then. Part of him almost wished that he’d never discovered Loras’ drug habit and that he’d merely remained blissfully ignorant. It was a silly thought to have and yet Renly was tempted all the same.

Sighing, Renly turned the album over in his hands, filled with nostalgia. It had been almost pristine when Renly had handed it to her, but the cover was raggedly now and it had been painstakingly repaired with sellotape. That upset Renly somehow and in his mind’s eye he imagined Loras poring over it by himself, getting lost in the pictures as he sat alone in an American hotel room.

“I meant to put that away.” Loras’ voice broke him from his reverie. It was stiff, hesitant, and Renly wondered if he was embarrassed- embarrassed that he’d evidently been looking at it this evening and embarrassed that it was clearly a well-loved possession of his judging from the wear and tear on it.

“Do you mind me looking?” Renly asked.

Loras chewed on his lip. “Guess not,” he mumbled, letting his cutlery clatter onto his plate. “You did give it to me after all. There’s nothing in it you haven’t seen already.”

Renly flicked through the pages fondly. “So Margaery sent it to you after all?” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Loras murmured. “She sent it to me in the post just after you gave it to her.” Leaving his half-finished meal, he edged a little closer to peer over Renly’s shoulder.

“Did you like it?” Renly asked.

Loras swallowed audibly. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It was nice, you know, to know that you’d been thinking of me and everything. I kinda thought that you’d forgotten about me by that point.”

Renly sighed heavily and turned the page again. This time it was a picture of the two of them in Paris. That had been one of their first dates and Renly smiled with the memories of it. Loras had sprung that trip on him. They’d argued the fortnight previously and then he’d simply turned up on the doorstep and whisked him off to France. Thinking back on it, Renly wondered if he’d appreciated at the time what a romantic gesture it had been. It was almost Guyard-worthy romantic.

“Do you remember that time we went to Paris?” Renly murmured, tracing his finger over their photo.

Loras actually smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “Course I do.” He turned back to his meal, a rather nostalgic, far-away look on his face as he picked his knife and fork up again.

Renly smiled too. That had been the second time they’d slept together and it had still been new and exciting back then. They’d barely left their hotel room all weekend, and if he remembered correctly, Loras had let him fuck him five times during that little trip. Glancing now at Loras’ back, Renly had to think that it was hard to imagine Loras letting anyone do that nowadays. It was hard to imagine him letting someone fuck him _once_ , let alone repeatedly.

Sighing, Renly flicked through a little further. There was much of the same. Him and Loras smiling, holding each other’s hands and getting out of taxis together. It made Renly’s heart ache, and yet reaching the last couple of pages, he was surprised to find that a piece of paper had been tucked between them. This too was something that Renly recognised. It was his own letter-headed paper, and words in Jaime’s ungainly hand were scrawled across it. It was crumpled, having obviously been screwed up many times, but someone, presumably Loras, had since smoothed it out, folding it neatly in two.

Renly grimaced as he scanned the list of words that was written there. _Ex-druggie, jealous and paranoid, uneducated, rubbish in bed._ The words seemed to swirl around on the paper and they made Renly want to be sick with the memories that they dragged back up. Several more items had been blotted out with thick black marker pen and were now unreadable; Renly supposed that Loras had done that in a fit of rage.

He was still reading it when Loras glanced back over, and this time, Loras turned a very white shade of pale when he saw what Renly had in his hands. The beginnings of a scowl twisted across his face like shards of lightning and deep pink hues crept into his cheeks.

“What are you doing with that?” he almost growled.

Renly flinched at his tone and closed his eyes briefly. “Why have you kept this, Loras?” he breathed, turning it over in his hands. “It’s a hurtful scrap of paper.”

Loras shrugged. “I just have,” he mumbled.

Renly sighed and ran his finger over the bits that Loras had scribbled out with black marker pen. “Is that you taking out your anger at me?” he asked.

Loras gulped. “No,” he muttered. “Not really.”

Renly looked closer. He tried to remember what had been on the list that was now blacked out. He was sure _crack addict_ had featured somewhere, as had the fact that he had been aggressive and violent, along with _too skinny, too uncomfortable to have in bed beside him_. Renly sighed when he realised the relationship between those things.

“You cross them off when they’re not true anymore,” he breathed.

Loras said nothing but his posture stiffened uncomfortably. He didn’t need to confirm what Renly had just said; the awkward tightening of his shoulders and pained expression on his face did it for him.

“Why do you do that?” Renly whispered. It baffled him.

Loras shrugged. “I dunno,” he muttered.

Renly cocked his head and Loras shut his eyes. He sat there for a good few moments, rocking backwards and forwards a little, his eyes still clenched shut.

“Well I was supposed to have a list of _goals_ I suppose,” he admitted eventually through gritted teeth, “to work towards in rehab. What sort of person I wanted or didn’t want to be whilst I was clean.” He paused, the scowl fully formed now. “And this was mine I guess.”

Renly tried to stop himself making a face. That made him uncomfortable for far too many reasons. It made him feel guilty for how much of a lasting effect that list had evidently had on Loras, and it made him realise how much Loras valued his opinion. He could only hope that it had been a while since Loras had looked at the piece of paper now in his hands.

“But this is stuff nobody should ever have written,” Renly protested. “It’s worthless, completely meaningless.”

“It’s not meaningless,” Loras mumbled. “It’s all the reasons you shouldn’t go back out with Loras Tyrell. It says so at the top. It’s even underlined.”

“Oh Loras,” Renly sighed. “So all the books and the studying for your GCSEs? That’s been because you think I’d _prefer_ you like that?” The idea horrified him, made him blanch.

Loras grimaced. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not the only reason.”

“Yes but it shouldn’t be a reason at all,” Renly argued. “You should be doing things based on what _you_ want, not what I want.”

Loras gave half a shrug. “I think you’ll find there’s a strong correlation between what you want and what I want,” he murmured, his scowling face downturned to the floor. “And spout all the self-empowered shit you like, but that will always be true.”

Renly sighed. “Whatever you say.” He looked miserably at the piece of paper that he wished he’d never let Jaime write. “And this kept you motivated did it?”

“Suppose so.”

Renly shuddered and turned back to look once more at the list in his hands. It was hurtful, something that bullies would write. “And it didn’t upset you?” he breathed.

Loras shrugged. “I guess that’s why it’s motivating,” he said stiffly.

Renly sighed heavily and folded the piece of paper back up so that he would no longer have to look at it. “Well you’re properly clean now,” he pointed out. “Can’t you chuck it away?”

Loras shrugged. “Guess.” He didn’t sound too convinced.

“Well why not?” Renly protested shortly.

Loras made a rather snide face at him. “Well there’s still a lot of things to cross off,” he hissed. “And no it’s not for you. It’s something that I’ve decided to do. I’ll feel better about myself when I’ve scribbled everything out. I’ll be able to put it all behind me.”

“Fine,” Renly conceded reluctantly. He disagreed but he knew better than to argue. He paused contemplatively. “Loras,” he murmured. “You don’t think that once everything’s crossed off we’ll miraculously be able to be a perfect couple again do you?”

Loras shifted a little uneasily. “No,” he said a little bitterly. “Maybe I did once, for a while. But now… now I realise that the reasons we’re not together don’t really have anything to do with what I can cross off that list.”

Renly took a deep breath, uncrossing his legs to turn to face Loras properly. “Why aren’t we together then? Explain it to me.”

“Because you-“

“And because I don’t want to be doesn’t cut it.”

Loras sighed heavily. “Because I’ll always be an ex-coke addict if not a current one,” he admitted miserably, sounding oddly like he was reading off a script. "Because I’ve got a history of lying to you and treating you badly, and because all that means that you don’t trust me not to put you through hell again.” He paused. “And because the fact that you wrote all these things down about me means that I’ll have trouble trusting you too.”

Renly sighed. That summed it up nicely, he thought. “Do you go through this with your counsellor then?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “Yeah,” he admitted. “But she doesn’t know I kept that.” He gestured to the piece of crumpled paper that was now on the floor.

 _I bet she doesn’t,_ Renly thought bitterly to himself. Somehow, he didn’t think any kind of trained counsellor would approve of Loras’ method. It was a terrible terrible method.

He sighed wistfully. “But you want to get back together right? Despite the fact that you recognise all that?” He wondered if Loras just had more faith than he did and part of him envied Loras that. He wished too that he could force himself to throw caution to the wind and give in to what he _wanted_ rather than what he thought sensible.

Indeed, Loras grimaced. “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he snapped. “You know that I want that. I’ve told you enough bloody times.”

Renly ignored his tone. “And so in this ideal world of yours,” he breathed, running a hand wearily through his hair, “how do we get through these issues?”

Loras paused. He was silent for a very long time. “I don’t know,” he admitted eventually, his voice barely a murmur. He sounded lost almost, like a child who needed an adult to guide him. And indeed, he appeared disappointed in himself and he opened his mouth to have another go. “I guess we’d talk about stuff?” he tried.

Renly laughed wryly. “I guess we would,” he agreed a little sadly. Sighing, he turned back to the photo album. “And this,” he murmured, eyeing the dog-eared edges. “How often do you look at this?”

Loras shrugged. “Just sometimes.”

“Just sometimes?” Renly looked at the sellotape. He didn’t believe that for a moment.

Loras swallowed visibly. “I used to like to look at it when I was high,” he whispered. “Or when I was coming down I suppose. It made me smile sometimes. I could imagine that you were there with me.”

Renly let out a long sigh. There was something sad about the image of Loras looking at photos of them while he came down. Somehow he imagined that they’d made Loras cry just as often as they’d made him smile. He liked to think that they had at least brought him a little comfort during a time when he’d quite clearly been going through a lot.

“But now that you’re clean?” Renly pressed.

“Just sometimes.”

“Good,” Renly murmured, “Because it’s not good for you to live in the past. You know that don’t you?”

“Yeah. Course I do.”

“That’s my boy,” Renly got to his feet, bending down to pick up their two trays. He felt strangely tired despite having done very little today, but when he glanced behind him, he saw that Loras mirrored how he was feeling. Loras was running his hands through his hair more than a little wearily and he seemed to drag himself to his feet with more effort than he could properly muster. He then picked his photo album up off the floor, tucking the list back inside it and dusting it off a little lovingly before he placed it very carefully back in a drawer where it would be safe from Renly’s gaze.

“Renly,” he said as Renly was half way out the door, and his tone was strange. “Want to go shopping or something tomorrow? Seeing as it’s a Saturday?”

It was a definitely an olive branch and Renly smiled. “Sure,” he began to say. He was cut off mid-word though by a loud knock on the door, one that echoed through the walls and vibrated through the floor. His smile turned to a frown; he wasn’t expecting anyone.

Loras went to the window. “It’s your boyfriend,” he mumbled quietly.

Renly stifled a groan He hadn’t been expecting Jon tonight but he supposed it wasn’t an unreasonable thing for him to do. Most people after all probably enjoyed the occasional surprise visit from his boyfriend.

“Better go let him in then,” he said wearily. He imagined that Jon would be expecting to stay the night and he quickly debated what counted as a reasonable time to gently kick him out in the morning. “What time were you thinking of heading out tomorrow?” he asked.

“You know what,” Loras said stiffly. “Let’s just forget about it.” He paused and Renly could see the cogs moving behind his eyes. “I might go home instead actually. Take Ophelia back to see her mother before she forgets her.”

A little disappointed, Renly nodded and headed off down the landing. “Will I see you in the morning?” he asked.

“No,” Loras told him a little bitterly. “Going to go early.” From the expression on his face, Renly rather suspected that he wanted to go _now_. He got the feeling too that that olive branch had hastily been withdrawn.


	77. Chapter 77

Renly woke up in the morning with the beginnings of a headache. He’d spent much of the night tossing and turning, wondering how he’d let the situation get this far. If someone had told his eighteen-year-old self that ten years on he’d rather be going shopping than potentially be having sex, he’d have laughed in their face. It was most unlike him, and sighing, Renly rolled over to look at Jon- the man who had certainly drawn the short straw in all of this.

He was still half asleep, his rusty hair standing up a little. He was no Loras, but he was undeniably handsome and Renly couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He wondered if staying with him was the right thing, if it wasn’t a little cruel actually. Inching a little closer towards him, Renly tried to imagine a future with him in it. It was more difficult than he could have imagined; the idea made him flinch even. They’d live in a nice big house with a white picket fence, they’d adopt precisely 2.4 children, and perhaps when they were feeling particularly wild, they’d hold dinner parties for their intimate friends and sit around a table that had centrepieces from John Lewis. It was beyond dull and Renly closed his eyes wearily. It was unfair, he knew, to draw this out much longer.

He looked blearily at his watch. It was half past eleven; Loras would have long set off for home. A little guiltily, Renly wondered if it would be wrong to make the most of what little more time he would allow himself with the man next to him, and deciding that he didn’t care that much about his conscience, he ran a hand up Jon’s side.

It took a good few tries before Jon opened his eyes, and when he did he looked a little confused. “I thought your rule w-“

“Loras has gone home for the weekend,” Renly murmured.

“Ah.”

That was all the encouragement that Jon needed and he rolled Renly rather deliberately onto his back. The news that Loras was away for the weekend evidently put him in a good mood and he smiled down at Renly with an uncharacteristically cheerful look in his eyes.

It suited him ill but Renly wasn’t complaining. He let Jon pull his pyjama top over his head with good grace, only pausing to wonder when it was that he had become so old that he wore pyjamas to bed even when he had company. He didn’t have time to wonder long though, and he closed his eyes as the bottom half of his pyjama set was eased down over his hips, Jon’s strong fingers digging into his skin. His breath then hitched as his cock found itself enveloped in a warm and very willing mouth.

“God,” Renly groaned. Jon was evidently in a really good mood, a good enough mood to give a Satin-worthy performance even, and gasping, Renly cupped the back of Jon’s head to urge him on.

He was barely aware of the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. He suspected most of them were blasphemous, curses mixed with praise. He bit back Satin’s name out of habit and he was just beginning to see stars behind his closed eyelids when he heard the most unexpected sound.

His eyes snapped open and he raised himself up onto his elbows.

“What is it?” Jon mumbled, raising his head.

“I could have sworn…” He listened again, and indeed there it was again: a short sharp bark. He sat up a little further. “Loras…” he murmured. “He should have taken the dog with him.”

Jon closed his eyes in evident exasperation. “Well maybe he left it here,” he whispered. He put his hands on Renly’s shoulders. “Now come on.”

“Wait,” Renly groaned, against his instincts. “I just have to go have a look.”

Jon raised an eyebrow and rocked back onto his heels. “You’re actually serious?” he asked. His folded arms across his chest showed exactly what he thought of that.

Renly ignored him and got up. He quickly pulled his pyjama bottoms back up and headed out onto the landing. He was more than a little startled to bump straight into Loras, who was clad in pyjamas too and was also apparently in the process of leaving his room.

Renly blinked at him. “What are you doing here?” he whispered. “You told me you were going home?”

“Something came up,” Loras muttered. “Believe me, I wish I had.”

Renly felt the tips of his ears turn pink. He felt suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was only half dressed and he folded his arms over his chest to try and cover up a little more. Feeling a little sick, he wondered quite how thin the walls were. He wondered how much Loras had heard.

When he didn’t say anything, Loras merely slunk past him. “Need to go let Ophelia out,” he murmured, padding barefoot down the stairs.

Renly followed him warily. “So what came up?” he asked, trying to clear the tension between them. He tried to keep the surprise out of his voice. It wasn’t often nowadays after all that Loras had any engagements at all. Usually his calendar was as blank as a new sheet of paper.

Loras took his time in replying, merely continuing down the stairs. It was only when he’d wrenched the back door open for Ophelia that he bothered to say anything. “I’m going to look at a flat with Margaery this afternoon,” he said bluntly, leaning heavily against the now closed door.

Renly gulped. His heart sank like the titanic. “Why would you do that?” he whispered, his voice hoarse all of a sudden. “Get a flat I mean?”

Loras just looked at him. “Seriously? You’re actually asking me this?”

“Huh?”

“You tried to have sex with me the day before yesterday,” Loras hissed. “And you expect me to just hang around and be okay with the fact that you clearly have zero intention of ever breaking up with your boyfriend for me?”

Renly swallowed painfully. _Technically_ , that was only half true. He _did_ have quite a lot of intention of breaking up with his boyfriend, just not necessarily for him. “Well did you think I was going to?” he whispered.

“No, I didn’t,” Loras snapped. “We’ve been through this. I’m not that deluded. But I’m getting out of here, going someplace where I won’t be the third wheel when your boyfriend comes round, where I won’t have to shut myself up in my bedroom because he clearly can’t stand my existence.”

Renly put his head in his hands, peeking out at him through spread fingers. “You know why that it is though don’t you?” he groaned.

“Of course I do,” Loras hissed. “And you think that makes me feel any better? You claim to love me but it’s some other guy who gets to be on your arm, who gets to go with you to restaurants and stupid formal dinners in Cambridge. While I stay here and wait for you to come home.”

“Oh Loras.”

Loras didn’t even stop to draw breath. “And that’s fine if he’s who you want. But just don’t expect me to stick around any longer. Funnily enough I don’t want to wake up on a Saturday morning and have to hear ‘god Jon, oh yeah, that feels good’ over and over again. It’s all right. I get it. You’re having a great time together.”

Renly winced. He thought Loras was being unfair here; after all, he’d had no way of _knowing_ that Loras had changed his plans. He still felt terrible though. He knew exactly what sort of thoughts were running through Loras’ mind right now. “Oh Loras,” he sighed. “You mustn’t think-“

“Mustn’t think what?” Loras spat. “Mustn’t think what?”

Renly scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “You know,” he said, fishing for words, “that I enjoy it more with Jon than I did with you or something.”

Loras’ face darkened and his eyes flashed dangerously. “I don’t think that,” he snapped. “I know that. I’m well aware, Ren, that you didn’t make those sort of sounds with me, that there was no ‘god Loras, keep doing what you’re doing, it feels great’. Funnily enough, I know that I merely got a hand in my hair, an occasional hum and a half-hearted request to keep going even though my jaw ached. I’m not stupid you know, regardless of what everyone thinks.”

“No-one thinks that Loras.”

“Yeah they do Ren,” Loras almost snarled, the bitterness tangible. “And I know I’m not academic, like you or Margie or Willas, but I’m not dim either. Not like you apparently think I am.”

“I know you’re not,” Renly soothed.

“So then don’t try and tell me you enjoyed our sex life as much as you’re enjoying it with Jon now.” His hands were balled up into fists and Renly wondered whether he was going to punch something.

“Loras,” he sighed, “please don’t beat yourself up over this. I’ve told you, you were sw-“

“Sweet yes,” Loras barked, “Sweet and smiley and bloody naïve.”

“It was endearing,”

“I didn’t want to be endearing,” Loras hissed. “I wanted to be that guy who really turned you on, who made you feel good. Not Loras ‘who’s a bit shit at giving head but it doesn’t matter because he looks so grateful every time you fuck him’.”

“ _Loras_ -”

“What?”

Renly sighed heavily. “Just calm down,” he told him. Wearily, he looked him up and down, took in the narrowed eyes and furious face. It wasn’t usual nowadays for Loras to lose his temper like this and he couldn’t help but worry. “Have you taken your medication today?” he asked.

Rage flashed across Loras’ face. “Yeah that’s right,” he snarled. “I’ll just go upstairs and pop a few more of those happy pills they give me and then I’ll be fine. Or maybe I’ll take some of the other ones and bloody _sedate_ myself instead until I’m calm enough for you to deal with me.”

Renly winced. He hadn’t meant to offend Loras like that; he’d only meant to inquire. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Loras,”

“You never do,” Loras agreed bitterly. Face screwed up, he yanked the door open to let Ophelia back in and turned on his heel. “I’m going to get dressed,” he muttered. “I’ve got a key so don’t wait up for me tonight.”

Renly bit his lip. “Wait,” he called after him as Loras disappeared up the stairs, the dog tucked under his arm. “Where are you going? I thought the flat viewing wasn’t until this afternoon?”

“It isn’t, and I don’t know where I’m going but I’ll find somewhere.” Leaving Renly standing alone in the kitchen, he stormed up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly took a few moments to collect himself before dragging himself back up the stairs to Jon. He felt awful, his footsteps heavy as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t know what he ought to do or even what he wanted to do.

Jon was dressed when he came in, and Renly cocked his head. “Oh,” he said. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“Well I guessed we weren’t finishing.” Jon’s tone was short and full of bitterness. In fact, he almost sounded a little like Loras had downstairs.

Renly said nothing to that. He merely sat down on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes; even the light seemed to give him a headache now. He took a deep breath. “You know what Jon,” he murmured, staring at the carpet. “This isn’t fair on you.”

“What isn’t?”

Renly pushed the nap of the carpet around with his foot, forcing it first one way and then the other, watching the colour change slightly. “How I behave towards Loras,” he whispered eventually. “It’s not fair that we tiptoe around him.”

Jon snorted. “You don’t say?”

Renly just put his head in his hands. If he’d been a lesser man, he might have cried. Not for any good reason mind, but because he felt so sorry for himself. Loras was already mad at him and Jon definitely would be too by the end of this conversation.

Jon sat down next to him on the bed, and when he opened his mouth, his tone was a little softer. “You know what Renly,” he sighed. “I probably understand better than you think.”

Renly looked up from the carpet. “You do?” he asked.

Jon gave him a small, sad smile. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice faraway somehow. “Wanting someone who doesn’t want you back... It’s torture.”

Renly groaned. “It’s me who doesn’t want him actually,” he whispered, guilt rising up in his throat and threatening to suffocate him. That wasn’t quite true. He _did_ want Loras, he wanted him with every fibre of his being, but he knew it would be like playing with fire, that both of them would probably get their fingers burned.

Jon looked baffled. “It’s _you_ who doesn’t want _him_?” he clarified.

“Mmm,” Renly murmured. He felt like a terrible human being and he wished that the bed would open up and swallow him.

“Well I don’t believe that,” Jon said bluntly. “You pander to him. It always seemed to me that you _adored_ him.”

“Well I do,” Renly agreed lamely. “But not like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Renly sighed. He said nothing.

Jon took a deep, shaky breath. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he said. “This conversation is clearly going one of two ways. You’re either finally agreeing to make Loras move out, or you’re ending things with me.” His eyes met Renly’s. “Now which one is it?”

Renly groaned. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he _wanted_ to say. Seeing as Loras was apparently packing up and leaving anyway, it would be so easy to take the first option and take the credit for a decision that had in fact been Loras’. It was tempting and yet the cynical part of him was pointing out that there was no real reason to continue things with Jon if Loras moved out, it was telling him that he wouldn’t need a boyfriend to act as a shield between them anymore.

“Well your silence clearly means that it’s the second one doesn’t it?” Jon murmured.

Closing his eyes, Renly nodded feebly.

He’d been quite calm throughout their conversation, but now Jon snatched up his coat. “And you tell me you don’t want him?” he asked, accusation in his tone.

“Well yeah…”

“Well you’ve a funny way of showing it.” Sweeping from the room, he shut the door behind him. A few minutes later there was the sound of the front door slamming downstairs. A few moments after that, the sound was repeated, and Renly couldn’t help but wonder whether it was Loras or Jon who had left first.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa was sympathetic. She had been supposed to be going out for the evening with Sandor and yet she’d cancelled immediately. By the time that Renly had driven over to hers, she’d even got the Ben and Jerry’s out of the freezer for them, two matching silver spoons laid out on a tray next to two matching china bowls. There was a bar of chocolate as well, along with two mugs of steaming tea, all of which had been placed on her dressing table ready and waiting for him.

Renly climbed into her bed without being asked, wrapping her blue floral duvet around his shoulders. He felt better already surrounded by Sansa’s fluffy cushions and blankets.

“So…” she said, getting under the covers beside him and placing her tray of goodies on their laps. “You and Jon have split up?” Her face showed her disappointment clearly.

“Mmm,” Renly agreed with a small shrug. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that that wasn’t particularly why he was upset. Admittedly, it was _part_ of the reason, but it was far from the only reason. He supposed that it wasn’t even Loras snapping at him either that had upset him. It was the whole situation rather. He was tired of not knowing what he wanted, of playing a never ending game of cat and mouse with Loras even though he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to play.

Sansa seemed to read his mind. “Does this mean you’re going to go back out with Loras?” she asked slowly, her usually smooth forehead wrinkling in concern.

Renly couldn’t even bring himself to lie. “I don’t know,” he whispered. He hugged one of her pillows, a yellow polka-dot one, to his chest. It didn’t help at all and so he picked up one of the spoons instead to take a large mouthful of ice cream.

Sansa said nothing meanwhile. She merely looked contemplative.

Renly frowned. “I thought that you thought that going back out with Loras was the worst case scenario for me. Where’s the anger?”

She sighed, picking up her spoon too. “You’re right,” she said lightly. “I think it would end badly. But I also think that you’ve got in so deep now that you almost _need_ to give it another go just so that you can finally lay it to rest.” Her blue eyes met Renly’s and they were surprisingly sympathetic. “Part of you is clearly desperate to give him a second chance, and if you never do try again you’ll just spend your life wondering _what if_.” She paused, daintily swallowing a mouthful of ice cream as she evidently thought. “Whereas if you did try again and it was a disaster, you’d be able to say that you’d given it another shot and move on.”

Renly groaned. There was a dangerous logic to her words that he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.

“Don’t you think it would be weird though?” she murmured contemplatively. “I mean going back to being a _couple_ again after being friends for so long? Can you imagine like kissing him and stuff? It’s been like years now.”

Renly groaned again. “Not quite true,” he whispered.

Sansa’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Renly just put his head in his hands. He wondered if he should perhaps just adopt this position permanently. It would surely make his life easier.

Sansa was not about to let him off the hook though. “What haven’t you been telling me?” she asked. There was a hint of impatience in her voice, but also a little bit of hurt too that all but broke Renly’s heart. She was so used after all to him telling her everything; he could understand why him keeping things from her upset her.

“Well when _was_ the last time you kissed him then?” she pressed curtly.

Renly rubbed his eyes wearily. “Yesterday?” he admitted.

“ _Yesterday?”_ she hissed. “Before you even broke up with Jon.? That’s awful, Renly. That’s _cheating_.”

“I know,” Renly groaned. “It was a mistake and I feel terrible.”

Sansa snorted. “Well Loras must be expecting you to date him now,” she said loftily.

“Nah,” Renly sighed. “He’s not.”

“Well _I_ would be if I were him,” Sansa protested, ice cream forgotten about now. “I mean, what can he take from that? You’ve managed to keep your hands off him for two whole years now and now you suddenly give in?”

“Ah well that’s not quite true either,” Renly breathed.

She pursed her lips. “ _Tell_ ,” she insisted.

Renly gulped. He wondered if he was making a big mistake in admitting this but he supposed he had no choice. He was rather low on allies right now. “Well we might have... um, _hooked up_ before Christmas?” It sounded terrible to his own ears.

“You mean you _slept_ with him?”

Renly winced. Her tone almost made him quiver in his boots; he wasn’t used to such harsh words from Sansa. “You say it like I plunged a knife in his chest…” he muttered.

“Well you may as well have.”

Renly sighed. He didn’t bother to deny it. “I know,” he agreed. He picked up the yellow cushion again and leant his forehead against it. “You’re right. I’m a terrible human being. And I’m a stupid one too. It shouldn’t be this hard to know if I want to go back out with someone or not.”

Sansa’s tone softened. “It’s alright,” she soothed. “It’s not like you’ve murdered anyone or anything. And besides, you don’t have to make a decision about Loras yet. There’s etiquette to respect. You have to wait several weeks between boyfriends anyway.”

For the first time that evening, Sansa’s words made Renly feel a little better.

 

* * *

 

 

It was past midnight when Renly came back from Sansa’s. Ophelia was on the windowsill when he came in, as if she’d been waiting for him. The sight made Renly briefly smile, before he remembered that that meant Loras was in, something which scared him a little.

A quick tour of his house though revealed that Loras was in fact nowhere to be seen. His bedroom door was ajar and whilst a glance in there had revealed to Renly that Loras had in fact followed his advice after all and taken a few of his pills to calm himself down, he hadn’t been in bed like Renly had expected him to be. The room had been a bit of a state too, but in a good way, Renly had supposed. There was fabric all over the floor, as well as a pair of dressmaking scissors, and Renly wondered whether Loras had finally learnt to channel his emotions into something a little more productive than simply getting high on the nearest pills he could find. Quite possibly, he’d done that too judging from the fact that his medication was strewn across his bedside table, but it at least wasn’t the _only_ thing he’d done.

Renly had to wonder though whether Loras had been more than a little confused tonight. In his own room, the wardrobe door had been left wide open. Renly was quite sure that he hadn’t left it like that himself and he had to wonder whether Loras had perhaps gone through his clothes or something. He wondered whether the fabric laid out so neatly across Loras’ floor was actually one of his favourite shirts and that Loras was cutting it up into tiny pieces out of revenge, or if he was planning to do voodoo with it or something.

He was just venturing back into Loras’ room to investigate these thoughts when it occurred to him where Loras might be, and cursing himself for being so dense, he turned around and headed for the bathroom.

Indeed, the door was locked. That reassured Renly in a little. He’d rather Loras be taking a shower than be out wandering the streets so late. He was less reassured, however, when he listened at the door and heard no sound of running water. His thoughts flitted back immediately to the packets of medication on Loras’ bedside table and his mind went into overdrive. There were too many possibilities to contemplate. He could have fainted, or become dizzy and bumped his head, or drowned in the bath.

“Loras,” he called. “You in there?”

He heard no answer and panicking a little, he twisted the lock from the outside and pushed it open.

He was met with a frowning Loras. He was in the bath and he wasn’t happy. “Does privacy not exist in your world?” he asked.

Renly didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to avert his eyes. “I was worried. Did you not hear me calling?”

Loras looked down at the dwindling bubbles in his bathwater. “Maybe I just wanted to be left alone,” he whispered. He was clearly still in a foul mood, but there was something else there too. He looked lost somehow, confused almost.

“But I was worried,” Renly repeated. “I thought….”

Loras didn’t even raise his head. “You thought what?” he murmured. “That I’d done a Whitney Houston or something?”

Renly winced. It had run through his mind but he didn’t dare admit it. “I thought you might have fallen down or something,” he said lamely. “I saw you’d taken some of your medication.”

“Yeah I did,” Loras mumbled. “So here you go, I’m nice and calm like you wanted. A bit like a zombie really, but I guess that’s better. It’ll be easier for you at least.”

Renly cocked his head. He came to sit on the bathroom stool. “What did you take?” he asked. He felt guilty now for his comments this morning. Loras had evidently taken them to heart.

“Just what they give me for my anxiety.”

Renly nodded, reassured that this was something he was allowed to take. “Don’t you take that every day?” he asked.

Loras shook his head, staring down at his bathwater. “I’m not allowed to take it every day,” he said quietly. “Because it’s highly addictive and because it’s supposed to make your memory go a bit strange.”

“Would you want to take it every day?”

Loras shook his head again. “Not really,” he murmured. “It’s a sedative. It makes me feel a bit dead.” He raised a hand to push his wet hair out of his eyes.

Renly nodded. He didn’t know what to say to that; talking about Loras’ medication made him feel a little uncomfortable somehow, and so he merely changed the subject. “Did you see the flat?” he asked a little nervously.

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

Loras shrugged. “I signed for it. Going to move in tomorrow.”

Renly forced himself to nod. He couldn’t bear the thought of Loras leaving but he knew he had to accept it. Like Loras had said, it wasn’t fair that he expected him to stay when he treated him in the way that he did. He wondered though whether Loras would change his mind if he knew about Jon Somehow Renly thought he might, and listening to his conscience for once, he forced himself to hold his peace.

Loras seemed relieved at his silence. “Now could you leave me to have my bath if that’s ok?”

Renly did as he was bid.


	78. Chapter 78

Loras wasted no time in following through on his word, and as he had told Renly he would, he moved out the very next afternoon. He packed all of his things into suitcases and whilst Renly had offered to help, he insisted on doing it all himself with the help of several taxis. They arrived in a fleet and disappeared as one too, the first couple carrying Loras’ many many clothes and the final one bearing Loras and Ophelia.

Renly had managed to be quite positive as Loras had packed, and they’d even parted with a hug and a promise to see each other soon, but now, as he watched the taxi disappear down the street, his feigned cheer ebbed slowly away. He could no longer force the smile to stay glued to his face and nor did he have to. He was free to be as miserable as he liked.

Indeed, he moped around for most of the evening, wandering aimlessly from room to room trying to find something to do. Every one of the room felt painfully empty though, and Renly even found that he missed Ophelia more than he’d expected to. There was a strangely bare space on the kitchen floor where her basket should have been and every now and then he’d think that he heard her barking.

It didn’t take him long to give up trying to entertain himself and call Satin. He knew that he’d probably be laughed at for the fact that he was calling about problems he was having with Loras yet again, but he didn’t particularly care. It was either phone Satin or spend the evening sniffling and feeling sorry for himself. It was an easy choice to make and he slipped his phone out of his pocket without further ado.

Satin picked up unusually quickly. “Hey,” he laughed over the line. “ _Finally_. I thought you’d never bother getting in touch.”

Renly cocked his head, baffled. He wasn’t aware that he had been _supposed_ to be getting in touch with Satin. It wasn’t as if Satin was incapable of phoning him after all. “Huh?”

“Well I guess you want to meet up right?”

Renly frowned, scratching his head. “I’m not following,” he admitted. “You know it’s me right? That it’s _Renly?”_

Satin snorted. “Course I do. I’m not an idiot. We did date for like half a year.”

That didn’t shed any light on the situation and Renly wondered what he was missing here. “Well aren’t you in Edinburgh?” he asked, thinking he was asking the obvious really.

Satin paused. “No,” he said. “I’m back in London for the week. Did you not know?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well how was I _supposed_ to know if you haven’t _told_ me?”

There was another pause. “Well didn’t Loras tell you?” Satin asked after a few moments. “I dropped round yesterday to get that jumper I left at yours, but you weren’t in.”

Renly blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Oh.”. He supposed it was Satin who’d been rifling through his wardrobe then. “No,” he said slowly. “Loras didn’t say.”

“Well evidently,” Satin agreed. His voice was strange somehow, and Renly wondered whether Loras had been particularly unpleasant to him. As he’d been in a bad mood already, Renly really wouldn’t have put it past him. He was rude to Satin at the best of times.

He sighed heavily. “How rude was he then? He actually agreed to let you in?”

Satin gave a small if slightly awkward laugh. “Well… he probably didn’t know it was me when he opened the door, but yeah I was surprised he let me in too.” He sighed. “It probably helped that he was on the whiskey. Your whiskey I believe actually.”

Renly wasn’t surprised. Loras had a tendency to turn to either alcohol or drugs when he was upset. He supposed that he’d turned to _both_ last night, but in moderation for once. He guessed that that was at least a small step in the right direction.

And sedatives,” he added to Satin with a Satin. “You got lucky. They really do calm him down a lot. He’d have probably not given you the time of day otherwise.”

Satin just hummed an agreement.

“So he wasn’t too vicious?”

Satin paused a little too long, long enough to make Renly wonder quite how awful Loras had been. “No…” he said eventually, tentatively even. “He was okay. Even got a sort of apology from him actually. Wasn’t expecting that.”

Renly hadn’t been expecting that either and he couldn’t stop himself making a small sound of surprise. _“No?”_ he asked, tightening his grip on his phone. He refused to believe that.

“Well yes actually. Told me he shouldn’t have bothered being so horrible to me because it didn’t get him anywhere.”

Renly bit his lip. He remembered telling Loras once that he’d have to be nicer to Satin the next time their paths ever crossed, but he’d never expected Loras to actually listen. “Aww,” he said quietly. “Poor thing. Did he elaborate?”

Satin was quiet. “You know what,” he said. “Why don’t you ask him? I don’t really want to put words in his mouth.”

That was frustrating to hear but Renly knew better than to argue with Satin. Satin lived rather strictly by his own moral code. “Fair enough,” he agreed a little reluctantly, wishing for once that Satin was more like Sansa. Had it been Sansa he was speaking to, she’d have spilled all the juicy details without even having to be pushed.

“So what’s the matter then?” Satin asked. “Why the call if it wasn’t because you wanted to meet up?”

Renly took a deep breath, wondering how best to sum this up. He supposed he should start with the more justified reason for him being in a poor mood. “Well I broke up with Jon yesterday,” he confided. “You know, that guy I’ve been seeing.” He couldn’t remember if he’d ever told Satin Jon’s name.

“Really?” Satin sounded a little surprised. “Loras told me that you and him were out somewhere last night.”

Renly laughed. He supposed it reasonable for Loras to assume him and Jon had gone out last night. That was after all what they usually did on Saturday nights. “Nah,” he said. “I was at Sansa’s. We broke up in the afternoon. Though I guess Loras doesn’t know that.”

“And you’re upset?” Satin asked. “I never got the feeling that that was going anywhere? Or that you even liked him that much?”

Renly stifled a groan. He should have known that he’d never get away with passing his bad mood off as fallout from the end of his relationship with Jon. “Well…” he murmured. “Loras moved out this afternoon too. I guess that’s not put me in the best of moods either.”

There was an even longer pause this time. “Oh. Had he been planning to? Move out I mean?”

That was a rather bizarre question, Renly thought, but he took it in his stride. “Well he and his sister went to look at a flat together yesterday afternoon if that’s what you’re asking? It wasn’t a spontaneous decision this morning.”

“Good.”

Renly frowned, switching ears with his phone. “Why’s that _good?”_

Satin was silent for a few seconds. “I guess I didn’t want to think that I’d influenced his decision or anything by turning up at yours,” he said. “You know, make him feel threatened or something by being back in town for a while.”

Renly supposed he could _vaguely_ see what Satin was getting at. He sighed heavily, wanting to get off the topic of Loras now. “Well,” he said. “Seeing as you’re around, want to come over tonight or something? Take pity on me and my empty bed? Be my means of rebounding?”

Satin laughed and he seemed glad of the subject change too. “Well that depends,” he chuckled.

Renly raised an eyebrow that Satin couldn’t see. “On what?”

“Whether you’ve got a couple of spare fifties lying around?”

Renly rolled his eyes. Satin had never suggested charging him and Renly highly doubted that he was going to start now. “Stop messing with me,” he laughed.

“But I’m not,” Satin told him cheerily. “I’ve already been snapped up for this evening. So if you want me, you’ll have to bid for me.”

Renly snorted. He didn’t think much of that.

“I’d give you a discount…”

Renly knew he was playing and he had to laugh; he couldn’t help wanting to play along a little. “How big of a discount?” he asked.

“Mmm well I usually do twenty percent for friends, I guess I could do forty for an ex. And fifty for you because I feel very sorry for you this evening.”

Renly laughed. “I’m that pitiful of a case am I?”

“Mmm, so pitiful that I’d probably do you for free when it came down to it.” He paused and Renly could hear the smile in his voice. “In all seriousness though, fancy getting together Wednesday?”

“I’d like that,” Renly sighed, and though it was a rather small one, he actually managed a smile, pleased that he had at least _something_ to look forward to that week.

 

* * *

 

 

It was only Tuesday evening when Renly caved and made up his mind to go and see Loras. He knew that he probably ought to give Loras more time to settle in and get to grips with his new place and everything, but he couldn’t help himself. Loras had given him his new address when he’d left on Sunday, and far too tempted by the fact that it was barely a mile from his office, Renly recited it to a taxi driver as soon as he was out of work that evening.

It was barely a ten minute drive even in London rush hour traffic. He spent longer actually dithering outside, composing himself so that Loras wouldn’t see how desperate he’d been to see him. It was only after a deep breath that he knocked.

Loras seemed a little surprised when he opened the door and saw Renly standing there. He stepped back to let him in all the same though, sticking a leg out to stop Ophelia escaping into the road in her excitement.

“So they finally relented and let you live in Shoreditch huh?” Renly laughed as he came in, bending to fuss over the dog. “Very edgy.”

Loras just shrugged. “I didn’t ask,” he said. “I just figured that it’s my money and I’ll live here if I want to.”

Renly smiled. He was pleased to see that Loras had got a little of his feistiness back. “But what about Margaery?” he asked. “Is she happy with it?”

Loras shrugged again. “To be honest, Ren,” he said bluntly. “I think Margaery would have been happy for me to live in a bin if it meant that I left yours.”

“Right…” Renly scratched his head a little awkwardly. He didn’t know what to say to that so he kept quiet as Loras led him into his new front room. It couldn’t have been more different from the place he’d had in Park Lane. There were definitely no plush carpets and velvet curtains here; it was all sleek wooden floors and modern art. The only thing it had in common with Loras’ old place was how much of a mess it was already in. There were two sofas in the room but both were piled high with Loras’ clothes.

“Upacking going well I see?” Renly grinned.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Actually,” he said, sinking rather carelessly into one of the piles. “I have unpacked. These are all the clothes that don’t fit me anymore.”

Renly looked. From the size of the piles, it looked like everything that Loras owned didn’t fit him anymore. “So what you doing with them all?” he asked.

“I’m auctioning them off for charity,” Loras explained. He didn’t offer Renly a seat but Renly took one anyway, nestling down too into the pile of clothes and hoping that they were past those sort of false courtesies by now.

“Well that’s nice of you,” Renly smiled. “Very philanthropic.”

Loras shrugged. “It’s easy to be charitable when you’re rich.”

Renly had to laugh. “True,” he admitted. “So is someone coming round to pick all these up or something?” He picked a garment out at random and had to grimace. The pair of jeans he had in his hands had to have come out of the early 2000s; they were what retailers had called _distressed_ but were actually just full of holes.

“They’re being picked up tomorrow,” Loras said, grimacing too at the pair of jeans Renly had picked out.

“Did you actually _wear_ these?” Renly laughed.

Loras made a bit of a face. “Sure I did,” he said. “When I was like thirteen… I had an old trucker hat too, because I wanted to look exactly like Ashton Kutcher did on Punk’d.”

Renly had to laugh. It was a bad bad image that he was imagining right now. He remembered late nineties and early 2000s fashion far too well for his liking. “Did you have the spiked hair too?” he asked.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Funnily enough, no,” he said, twirling a curl around his finger. “I bet you did though.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed, sighing a little fondly. “I remember Robert getting me my first pot of gel and showing me how to do one of those faux-hawk things. You know, when you push all your hair inwards, like David Beckham used to have.”

Loras laughed too at that and he took his old pair of jeans out of Renly’s hands and picked up a marker pen that was lying on the coffee table. He scrawled his name across the inside.

“Why you doing that?” Renly asked, peering over his shoulder.

“Because it makes them more valuable,” Loras explained, a little bluntly, as if it were obvious. “This pile we’re sitting on now is what I call everyday clothes and I’ll just sign the insides of these, but those ones over there are things I’ve worn on runways and in campaigns. For each of those I’m writing a small letter saying when and where I wore it and who it’s made by. That sort of thing.”

Renly raised an eyebrow, looking at the size of the pile on the opposite sofa. He let out a long whistle. “God,” he laughed. “Do you even remember where you wore all of them?”

Loras shrugged. “Most. My manager’s got some poor assistant going through old pictures to match the ones which I don’t.”

Renly smiled. He could think of worse jobs than looking at pictures of Loras all day. He wondered if he ought to perhaps volunteer. He looked back at the ugly jeans though and thought better of it. “I know you’re famous and all,” he said, “But will anyone actually _buy_ those?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised,” he muttered. Picking the pen back up, he scribbled something else inside the denim. “Here,” he said, handing them back to Renly. “Seeing as you love them so much. Think of it as a gift.”

Renly snorted, laughing to see that Loras had written _To Renly_ just above his signature. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “I’ll cherish them.”

Loras just smirked a little evilly and picked up another garment to sign with his marker pen. He clearly had a lot to get through before tomorrow so Renly watched him quietly, not wanting to interrupt. Sitting with Loras in silence was certainly better than sitting home alone in silence.

“You know,” Renly murmured when Loras had made a little progress. “It’s awfully quiet at home without you and Ophelia around.”

Loras shrugged, not looking up from a leather jacket he was signing. “I figured you’d ask Jon to move in,” he said dryly.

Renly exhaled loudly, wondering what to tell him. “Actually,” he said tentatively, “me and Jon have decided to call it a day.”

“Oh.” Loras evidently hadn’t been expecting that and he looked up from what he was doing, before hesitating for a few moments. “Because of what happened on Thursday?” he breathed.

Renly sighed. Loras was referring to the kiss that they’d shared, something that he still felt guilty about. “I didn’t actually tell him about that,” he admitted. “Would have been like rubbing salt in the wound if you know what I mean.”

There was a silence where Loras fiddled with the piece of clothing in his hands. “So on Saturday,” he said quietly, “when I accused you of having no intention of breaking up with him for me…”

Renly closed his eyes. “Please Loras” he said. “Don’t go there right now.”

Loras made a rather disgruntled sound. “Why not?” he asked shortly. “It’s not that crazy a question. Not when you’ve just come round uninvited to mine to tell me that you’re newly single.”

Renly bit back a sigh. “Yes but we’ve been through this like a thousand times,” he groaned. “Could we not just give it a rest for a while?”

Loras said nothing. He just turned back to signing his clothes.

Renly sighed heavily. “And now I’ve offended you haven’t I?” he whispered. He seemed to have a habit of doing this.

Loras just shrugged. “No,” he said. “It’s fine.”

Renly wasn’t sure if he believed him. Either way, he thought he’d do better to quickly change the subject. “Actually,” he said, coughing a little. “I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“What?” Loras asked, not evening looking up. He sounded distinctly bored, something which Renly suspected had more to do with him being on the defensive than actually being bored.

“Well,” Renly said, trying to keep his tone light. “Any messages you were supposed to give me by any chance?”

Loras’ forehead knitted. “Not that I remember,” he mumbled. Perhaps it was a testament to how much he’d changed his ways, for his skills in lying had certainly deteriorated. Renly wouldn’t have thought it possible but he thought Loras looked more uncomfortable now than he had done a few minutes ago.

“Nobody came round looking for me on Saturday then?” Renly pressed.

Loras stiffened and he stared intently down at the t-shirt he was signing, the black ink of the marker pen running into the fabric and making a large unsightly blob when he failed to move it. “Oh,” he said. “ _That_. I guess I forgot.”

“Really?” Renly rather suspected that Loras’ jealousy was the reason that he hadn’t told him. Loras had never been able to stand Satin, and Renly couldn’t see any reason for that opinion changing.

Loras frowned, looking up at Renly a little warily. “Well that medication I take for my anxiety makes me forgetful,” he said lamely.

Renly didn’t believe him for a second. Loras had certainly not _forgotten_. He’d just decided not to tell him. He didn’t bother arguing with him though; there was no real point now, and he hardly wanted to make Loras feel even more awkward than he apparently was.

“Anyway,” he sighed, getting the feeling now that Loras would really rather be left in peace. “I should be getting home, leave you to get through that huge pile of clothes. I only meant to pop in and see you.”

Loras nodded. “Alright,” he said. He dropped the t-shirt and got to his feet. “I’ll have to give you a tour of the house some other time then.”

Renly forced a smile and picked up the jeans that Loras had so generously gifted him with. “Yeah,” he said. “And we’ll have to get lunch or something one day this week or something. You’re hardly far from Liverpool Street.”

“Yeah, not far at all,” Loras agreed quietly. Renly wondered if he was regretting that now, if he was wishing that he’d gone for a flat that would put a little more distance between them. Indeed, he didn’t respond to Renly’s suggestion that they get lunch sometime, and as Renly was shown out, he got the definite feeling that Loras was very glad to see him leave.


	79. Chapter 79

Satin seemed a little reserved when he turned up on Renly’s doorstep on Wednesday evening. He’d clearly been caught in the rain and his curls were a little damp and a little windswept. Such showers were hardly unusual in early May, Renly thought, but what was unusual was Satin’s demeanour. He usually had a permanent smile on his face but today he seemed a little quiet, a little withdrawn. 

He managed a smile though when Renly ushered him inside. “This place looks lovely,” he told him. “You’ve made it look really nice.”

Renly grinned. He supposed that this was the first time Satin had actually seen the two flats completely transformed back into one. He was rather proud himself of how nice he’d made it look, but if you looked closely, you could see where Gendry and Arya had botched things. There was a line of tiles for instance in the kitchen which were a slightly different shade from the rest, and there was a splash of bright blue paint across the otherwise pristinely white suite in the downstairs bathroom- a splash of blue paint that Gendry had promised would fade in time. Renly wasn’t about to point out any of these imperfections though, and so he just nodded and took the compliment.

“So I was thinking pizza and a film,” he told Satin as he led him through into the kitchen.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Which is for the best,” Rely laughed, “because I already put the pizzas in ten minutes ago.” He opened the oven door with a flourish to demonstrate his point, sliding two pizzas elegantly out onto a tray and breathing in the smell of warm dough.

Satin just smiled and took his pizza gladly. “Ready to eat as ever, I see.” He followed Renly into the living room and sank down onto the sofa.

“Now what film…” Renly pondered. Sitting down next to Satin, he grabbed the remote and brought up Netflix.

Satin just shrugged. “You choose,” he murmured.

That was fine with Renly and he flicked through film after film idly. He was only a few dozen in when he stumbled upon what he considered the perfect film for him and Satin to watch. He pressed play with a grin.

“How original,” Satin remarked dryly when he saw what Renly had put on. “ _Pretty Woman_. Nobody has ever suggested watching _that_ with me before.”

Renly’s grin just widened. He could tell Satin wasn’t actually irritated; he could even see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Come on,” he laughed. “It’s a great film. You’ll watch it with me, won’t you?”

Satin laughed, rolling his eyes. “I never said I wouldn’t watch it,” he pointed out.

Renly gave him a smile and picked up his knife and fork to tuck into his pizza. Out of habit, he was tempted to put his arm around Satin and yet he forced himself to refrain. It wasn’t as hard as he might have expected, and he supposed that living with Loras had probably given him some much needed practice.

“So what brings you back to London?” Renly asked, mouth half full.

Satin shrugged. “Nothing in particular. I have friends here, fancied seeing you too.”

Renly smiled at that, and he settled for leaning against Satin happily once he had finished his pizza. That seemed a happy medium, and the two of them watched Richard Gere pick Julia Roberts up off a street corner cheerfully enough.

“You’ve never done that, have you?” Renly asked, gesturing at the TV screen. 

“Done what?”

“Hung around on street corners?”

Satin raised an eyebrow. “No,” he said. “It's illegal to do  that, and anyway, times have moved on. It’s all mainly done online now. On agency websites or through Craigslist if you’re feeling particularly dodgy.”

Renly smiled. “But you still charge by the hour though?”

“Yep. Or per night. Exactly like she does.”

Renly smirked, his curiosity once more getting the better of him. “How much?”

Satin rolled his eyes, shaking his head in what appeared to be exasperation. “About a hundred an hour is the lowest I’ll usually go,” he said, stretching slightly as he leant into Renly’s side. “I’ll do hand-jobs for a lot less and blow-jobs for fifty. But it’s definitely a case by case basis. It’s something I’ll negotiate with a client before anything happens, and obviously it’s in my interest to go as high as possible.”

“Well duh,” Renly laughed, wrapping an arm lazily around him. “I’m a lawyer, I understand all about screwing people for money.” He paused, pointing at a now half-naked Julia Roberts. “And are you like her? Is kissing not allowed?”

Satin rolled his eyes again. “No,” he said shortly. “Kissing is fine. Personally, I think that the no kissing thing is a myth that this film started.”

Renly grinned. Satin sounded quite scathing but Renly could tell he was amused. It was perhaps one of his favourite things about Satin: it was very rare indeed that he got offended or pissed off by something. He was the polar opposite of Loras, imperturbable where Loras was volatile. It was strange, Renly thought, how he could get on so well with both of them when they were so different. He liked to think that he himself was a lot more like Satin than Loras- non-confrontational rather than touchy- and he wondered if that part of the reason why they’d managed a whole six months without arguing when they’d first started dating. In a relationship with Loras after all, only one of you could afford to be hot-tempered.

He was still pondering on that when Satin nudged him.

“Hey Renly,” he murmured softly, dark eyes searching his face. “Did you ever speak to Loras about me dropping round on Saturday?”

“Yeah actually,” Renly laughed. “I did. On Monday. He claimed he _forgot_ to mention that you came by. Which of course is absolute bullshit. It's just that he's jealous of you.”

Satin paused, chewing contemplatively on his lip. “And that’s all he said?” he asked.

If Renly hadn’t known better, he would have said that Satin looked worried. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Why?”

Satin was silent again for a few moments. “Well,” he said, slowly, deliberately, “There’s something I probably ought to have told you.”

Renly frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah, well I was counting on Loras telling you actually. He said he would.”

Renly scratched his head. “Well Loras hasn’t told me anything.”

“Obviously,” Satin agreed. He sighed heavily, looking up at Renly with large eyes. “Well,” he said quietly, “the other night, Loras and I might have shared slightly more than an apology.”

Renly’s stomach lurched. “Don’t you dare tell me that this is going where I think it’s going?” His voice was a growl even to his own ears and he fought to keep it under control, sure after all that he must have misunderstood, that he must have misheard or something. 

“Mmm,” Satin hummed, “In that case, I probably shouldn’t say anything then.”

Renly thought he might be sick. Images that made him shudder flooded his imagination, swimming in his mind's eye regardless of how much he tried to suppress them. “No, you carry on,” he warned, removing his arm from around Satin's shoulders. " _Be my guest._ "

“Well it was just a fumble really. Nothing that meant anything or lead anywhere.”

“ _Just a fumble?”_ Renly couldn’t remember ever having a bad word to say about Satin but right now he quite fancied throttling him. He could feel rage simmering under his skin, boiling in his veins, building up as steam behind his ears. “How dare you?” he snapped. “ _Loras_ , Satin. _Fucking Loras._ ”

If Satin was afraid, he didn’t show it. He merely raised an eyebrow. “He’s not yours,” he pointed out evenly.

That tipped Renly over the edge. “Nor is that brother of Sansa’s _yours_ ,” he hissed, getting to his feet, hands balled up into fists. “But I’d bet you’d be furious if I fucked him.”

Satin didn’t rise. “I didn’t fuck him,” he said. “Far from it actually. And you’re right, I probably wouldn’t be too impressed if you went after Jon, but the situation’s different. I _want_ Jon and can’t have him. You’ve rejected Loras more times than I can count. You don’t _want_ him, Renly, but God forbid that anyone else goes near him.”

Renly hardly listened. “Yes, but not you, Satin. You shouldn’t have laid a fucking finger on him.”

“You’re probably right,” Satin said calmly. “And I’m sorry. But I still hold that it was a decision that doesn’t involve you.”

“ _Doesn’t involve me?”_ Renly snarled. “How does this not involve me?” He grabbed Satin’s wrists roughly, wrenching him up from the sofa. “Just get out, Satin, before I lose my temper with you.”

Satin rose quietly and he didn’t even point out the obvious- that Renly had clearly _already_ lost his temper.

 

* * *

 

“How dare you,” Renly snapped as soon as he opened the door. “How fucking dare you.”

Loras blinked. He was in his pyjamas and he'd evidently just got out of the shower. His hair was wet, falling around his face in a beautiful cascade of soft ringlets but Renly didn’t care for once. He quite fancied tearing those curls out at the roots instead of playing with them.

Loras frowned, raising an eyebrow. Well hello to you too...?”

“Don’t you play ignorant with me, Loras. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Loras’ face hardened and a scowl tugged at his lips. “Do I?” He folded his arms across his pyjama-clad chest. 

“Yes you fucking do. How dare you? My ex, Loras? _My ex?”_

“Oh.” Loras stepped back to let him in and Renly got the feeling that it was only because he didn’t want them shouting at each other in the street. “So he told you about that then?”

“Yes he fucking did,” Renly retorted bitterly. “And you have some serious explaining to do.” He took a small step towards Loras, cornering him in the small hall. He wanted explanations; he wanted Loras to tell him that Satin had made it all up, that he was lying. 

Loras bit his lip. “Well I don’t know,” he mumbled darkly. “I didn’t _mean_ to. It just happen-.”

“-really?” Renly snapped, rounding on him. “It just _happened_. You expect me to believe that it just _happened?”_ He’d never heard such a pathetic excuse in his life, and it made him want to hit something, to lash out, at a brick wall if he had to, or at Loras' face. 

Loras’ brow furrowed deeply. He opened his mouth and yet no sound came out. Renly exhaled shakily as he watched him. There was no more than a few inches of empty space between them; if Renly had wanted to, he’d barely have had to shift to kiss him. He’d barely have to shift to slap him round the face either, and that was more tempting. Loras’ silence was infuriating, it was maddening.

“Well come on,” Renly demanded. “Say something.”

Loras’ eyes narrowed at that and yet he stayed silent.

“Say something!” Renly took hold of Loras’ shoulders; he wanted to shake the words out of him if he had to.

That was apparently a bridge too far for Loras though and he wrenched Renly’s hands off him. “ _Fine,_ ” he snapped. “I’ll say something. You have no right to come in here like this. I haven’t cheated on anyone, Satin isn’t your boyfriend. You’re the one who cheated, last week to be precise, with me. So yeah, don’t you dare mouth off at me like this.”

“-yes but Satin’s my ex. How did you ever think this was okay?”

“Well maybe I didn’t think it was _okay_ ,” Loras hissed. “Maybe I was miserable and lonely that evening and maybe I made a bad decision. But that’s not for you to tell me.”

“It damn right is. We’re supposed to be _friends_ , Loras. Friends don’t do this to each other.” Renly gulped, shuddering. “Thinking about _you_ with _him_. It makes me want to be sick, Loras.”

Loras snorted. “Yeah well you’re going to have to accept that I can do what I like, Ren, even if it makes you sick. I don’t answer to you.” He turned away from Renly then, stalking into his living room.

Renly chased after him. “Yes but friends respect boundaries,” he snapped. “Exs are out of fucking bounds, Loras. You should know that.”

Loras whipped around as if Renly had him on a string. “ _You_ are talking to _me_ about fucking boundaries?” he asked, voice bitterer than any poison. “You’ve crossed every line in the damn book, Ren.”

Renly grimaced. “Sure, I’ve crossed lines,” he agreed. “And I’ve apologised for it. I can accept when I’m wrong, but you can’t. And you’ve gone too far this time. Guyard was my ex, Beric was my friend, and I dated Satin longer than I dated you. Maybe you’d like to fuck one of my brothers next, or at least a bloody co-worker?”

Loras’ eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re being unfair,” he growled. “You’d been on one date with Guyard, you set me up with Beric yourself and Satin’s a _prostitute_ , Ren. What do you care who he sleeps with.” He took a step towards Renly now, threatening even though he stood several inches shorter. “And you know what?” he hissed. “Your hooker made me feel better about myself than you have done recently. So you can stuff your moral high ground right up your arse.”

He might as well have slapped Renly round the face.

“And you know what,” he continued, “you don’t have any say over who I do. You don’t want me, Ren. You’ve made that crystal clear. So face the consequences, Ren. Accept that you have absolutely no right to tell me what I can and can’t d-.”

“It’s not about telling you what you can’t do,” Renly cut in, balling his hands up into fists again. “You could have chosen anyone but you had to choose Satin. It’s selfish, that’s what it is.”

Rage flashed across Loras’ face. “No _you’re_ being selfish,” he snapped back. “You’ve been selfish for the past fucking _year_ , Renly.”

“What?”

Loras pointed a finger at him. “Why won’t you just leave me be?” he asked bitterly. “You’ve made it clear that you don’t want me, but every time I try to get out of your life and move on, you just reel me back in like some fish on a hook.”

There was an inkling of truth in his words that Renly didn’t want to hear right now. He shut his ears to it. “That’s not true,” he protested loudly. He wasn’t in the mood for this argument and he was quickly losing his patience. 

“Yes it is. Just make your bloody mind up.”

Renly inhaled sharply. “I’ve told you a thousand times, haven’t I? We’re _friends?”_

Loras laughed in his face, a strained, poisonous laugh that sounded strange to Renly’s ears. “Friends, my fucking arse. Friends don’t kiss, Renly. They don’t share beds, or ring each other on Valentine’s Day. We are not _friends_ , and don’t ever try to tell me that. It’s insulting.”

“Well then what do you want me to say to you?” Renly objected. Ophelia had appeared now from out under a chair and she jumped up at him, whining pitifully, her tail between her legs.

“You don’t have to say anything to me,” Loras snapped. “Us trying to be friends was a mistake. And you know what else was a mistake?”

_“What?”_

“Getting this house. I should have gone further. Back to New York. Or _Australia_ maybe.”

Renly pushed Ophelia down with more force than he’d usually use. “You couldn’t do it,” he retorted. “You’re all talk and no walk.”

Loras almost bared his teeth at him. “I damn well could and I damn well will.”

“Stop being stupid.”

“I’m being serious,” Loras snarled. “I’ve had enough. I’m _tired_ , Renly. I’m tired of loving someone who refuses to love me back. I’m tired of being toyed with. I’m not a yoyo. I’m a _person_. So unless this is some fucked up attempt to sweep me off my feet, you can get out and not come back. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Renly flinched violently. “You don’t mean that.” Somewhere, somewhere deep down and underneath the anger, that frightened him. 

“Yes I bloody do.” Loras' voice was raised; he was almost shouting. “So you can make up your mind. You either have me or accept that I don’t want to see you again. _Ever_ , Renly. Because we can't be friends and you damn well _know_ that."

Renly almost hit him. Instead he screwed his eyes up. Loras’ words echoed around his head, mingling with Satin’s, _with Sansa’s,_ ringing in his ears like gunfire. It was all too loud, too much, and he wanted suddenly to sit down, to make Ophelia shut up, to make _Loras_ shut up.

“Fine,” he snapped. “ _Fine.”_

There was a long pause as Renly's words echoed around the room and Loras’ eyes narrowed. “Fine _what?_ ” he asked, voice dangerously cold.

Renly sighed. “Fine,” he repeated heavily, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I’ll date you. If that's what you want.”

Loras just blinked, clearly confused and his face still flushed red with anger.


	80. Chapter 80

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! Got really behind on work...

Loras’ stunned silence seemed to last an eternity and yet it couldn’t have been longer than a second or two. Renly could feel his words hanging in the air between them, like a suspended pendulum which refused to swing one way or another- much like Loras’ current expression. And whilst Renly could remember being furious, now, looking at Loras’ face, he felt the fight seep out of him.

It was a few seconds later that something finally clicked in Loras’ expression. “ _If that’s what I want?”_ he repeated icily. “What kind of answer is that?”

Renly winced. He was used to Loras losing his temper and the cold control that he was displaying now unnerved him. He wasn’t sure which he hated most. He just knew that he hated the look on Loras’ face.

“Seriously?” Loras asked again, voice shaking slightly now. _If that’s what I want?”_

His voice was louder now and Renly fully expected to get shouted at again. He wasn’t sure if he could take that, and screwing his eyes up, he sank down to the floor, leaning back against the wall with his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to say to Loras. In the strictest sense of the word, he knew that he wanted Loras as much as Loras clearly wanted him, but he was far too aware that he _shouldn’t_ want that.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmured desperately, his voice pathetic even to his own ears. “I _want_ it too, I just think it’s a terrible idea.” He glanced up at Loras’ face through his fingers.

Loras just shrugged a little disdainfully. “Well it’s your choice,” he spat.

Renly bit back a sigh. “Can we stop shouting now?” he asked.

“You started it.”

He sounded a little petulant and Renly had the bizarre urge to laugh. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I did start it. And now my head hurts.” He looked up, properly this time. “Can we take a time out or something? Argue again later?”

Loras frowned. He looked like he wanted to protest but perhaps his head was hurting too. Or perhaps even he couldn’t be bothered to argue when his opponent refused to argue back.

“Fine,” he sighed in defeat. He too sank down to sit on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Renly closed his eyes. He vaguely heard the pitter-patter of small feet on the wooden floor and presumed Ophelia had ventured out from under the chair now that they’d stopped shouting. He didn’t bother looking though. He didn’t want to think about anything, even the dog. He wanted his mind to be peacefully blank, devoid of all the painful images of Satin and Loras that his brain was kindly conjuring up for him. Somehow though, he didn’t imagine he’d have much luck in keeping his mind blank. Whilst the adrenaline was ebbing away now, guilt was quickly seeping in to replace it. He’d made a catalogue of errors tonight, from being terribly tactless to coming round here in the first place. And Loras, he knew, was never quick to forgive.

“You’re angry with me aren’t you?” Renly breathed, opening his eyes.

Loras just shrugged. “Yeah,” he said bluntly. He had Ophelia sat between his legs and his arms around her.

Renly sighed heavily. “I’m sorry.” The words sounded empty though and he imagined that they would bring Loras little comfort.

Indeed, Loras just snorted. “Thanks,” he said dryly. He turned to face Renly properly, a few fingers hooked around Ophelia’s collar. “So, that’s your choice is it? We go back out if I still want to?”

“Choice?” Renly asked. “You didn’t really give me a choice.”

Loras’ brow furrowed. “Well I did,” he said stiffly. “I told you, it’s all or nothing now. I’m sick of the middle ground.”

Renly exhaled loudly. It seemed that those were indeed the only two choices he was going to get. “Look, Loras,” he sighed. “I love you too much to let you walk out of my life. So there you go, my _choice_. I’m not going to lie to you and pretend that this isn’t a choice you’ve forced. You *know I have doubts.”

Loras was silent for a long time, face downturned towards his knees, curls obscuring his profile. “You know,” he whispered eventually, his voice a little sharp. “I always expected to be so happy if I heard you say that you’d be willing to give it another go.”

The disappointment in his voice was tangible and it broke Renly’s heart. It was the bitterness that worried him more though and he gulped. “You’re going to throw that offer back in my face aren’t you?” he breathed.

Once more Loras took his time answering. Renly could see the cogs turning in his head, could see him weighing up his options. He couldn’t help but feel conflicted as he watched. He didn’t really _know_ what he wanted Loras to tell him; he wasn’t even sure whether they were still in the all or nothing territory or not.

“No,” Loras breathed eventually, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to throw it back in your face.”

Renly released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “You’re not?” he asked.

Loras looked up at him and there was something a little sad about his expression. “My pride wants to throw it back in your face,” he admitted.

“But?” Renly murmured.

Loras sighed heavily. “But I’ve wanted this too much for far too long to walk away now. I’d regret it. I’d wonder what if.”

That had been Sansa’s reasoning too, Renly recalled. He could see the logic behind it actually. He then gulped as he realised quite what that meant. He and Loras would presumably be a couple again- a proper one rather than the too-close friends they’d been for a whole year. It was a strangely alien idea to him and he couldn’t help but feel quite detached from it all. He’d have imagined that if he and Loras ever decided to get back together, it would be to fanfare and fireworks. Instead they were sitting on the floor in Loras’ rather bare living room and he was really struggling to get his head around it.

“But I want you to be sure.” Loras’ voice cut through his thoughts, and it was as bitter as the entire evening had been.

Renly swallowed painfully. “You expect me to change my mind don’t you,” he murmured guiltily. He couldn’t blame him; he didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to sticking to decisions he’d made.

Loras shrugged, wrapping his arms back around Ophelia.

Renly just bowed his head. He didn’t have it in him to disagree with that.

“Yeah I do expect you to change your mind,” Loras agreed sharply when it was clear Renly was going to say nothing. “So think on it.”

Renly raised his head a little pitifully. “Think on it?”

“Yes. Think on it,” Loras repeated a little scathingly. “I’ll give you a week or two. Some _space.”_

“But I told you,” Renly mumbled. “I’ve already made my choice.” He had. He hadn’t been lying; when faced with those two options there was only one choice he could make.

“And I want you to think on it,” Loras said again, eyes narrowed this time. He gave Renly a rather hard nudge with his foot. “But elsewhere.”

Renly got to his feet quicker than if Loras had shot at him.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras apparently had been being serious about insisting that Renly thought about his decision for a couple of weeks. Over the next few days, he ignored all of Renly’s calls and he only deigned to reply to one of his texts, and even that had been a very blunt _stop calling me. I told you a week or two._ Even for Loras, that had been blunt.

All in all, Renly felt utterly miserable. When he was awake, his mind kept rerunning over that last night, his and Loras’ shouting echoing around his head. And when he was asleep, he seemed to dream about nothing but Loras and Satin, the two of them taunting him together, their hands in each other’s curls like too-close-twins. It was a betrayal that haunted him, and above all perhaps, embarrassed him. He couldn’t even bring himself to say a word to Sansa, too embarrassed was he to even risk telling her that Satin and Loras had had a casual romp behind his back.

All in all, he felt in limbo, stuck somewhere between still being single and being in a rather artificially engineered relationship that he feared would be a complete car crash. He didn’t know whether to start thinking about how he and Loras would go about things or if they should just agree to let things take their natural course. Both seemed rather scary prospects.

In the end, he took it day by day. Every morning, he expected Loras to break his word, to call him back despite the fact that he’d said he wouldn’t and every day he was disappointed. He’d grown used to having Loras around, to being able to text him in his coffee breaks and seeing him most evenings. His absence left a strange hole in his days and Renly couldn’t stand it. In some ways, he supposed that that was a good thing- it made him feel a little more confident that he’d made the right choice.

He’d managed half a week when there was a knock at his door. Convinced it might be Loras, he took the stairs two at a time, and yet had to frown when he opened the door. It was a girl standing outside, and whilst she looked an awful lot _like_ Loras, she definitely wasn’t someone that Renly wanted to see.

“Margaery,” he said stiffly.

She managed a very tight smile. “Hi,” she said quietly. “I was in the area and thought I’d pop by. I wanted to speak to you.”

That sounded daunting but Renly supposed he had little choice. “Okay…” he said. He ushered her in a little warily. The last time that he’d spoken to Margaery had been at their family home and she’d all but shouted at him. The experience still lingered in his mind like an unpleasant smell and Renly wondered what reason she could have for being here.

“Loras told me that you two are thinking about going back out,” she said.

“Did he?”

Margaery’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that not true?” she asked. She seemed suddenly a little flustered and fiddled a little with her thumbs.

“No it’s true,” Renly admitted.

“He said he’d left the ball in your court.”

Renly shrugged lightly. “Also true,” he told her lightly.

Margaery sighed heavily, hands clasped in front of her now. “I don’t want to interfere-“

“How unusual,” Renly muttered under his breath, unable to help himself.

“And I’m not going to interfere,” she continued, more firmly this time, daring to look Renly in the eye. “I’m not even going to ask what decision you’ve made. But I just wanted to say that if you guys _do_ get back together, I’d really like for us to make a new start.”

Renly blinked. “You would?”

“Yes,” she said earnestly. “I shan’t lie. I have my reservations about the two of you together. _Big_ reservations. But you’re who Loras has chosen and I’m his sister. We’d need to try and get off on the right foot this time for his sake.”

Renly nodded. He wanted to correct her and tell that they’d actually got off on an okay foot; it had only been later that they’d crossed blades.

“And really,” she added, “he could do worse.” She sounded a little reluctant.

Renly laughed wryly. “Well I never thought I’d hear you say _that,_ ” he muttered.

She shrugged, her hair bouncing around her shoulders. “Yeah well you’ve made a lot of decisions I don’t agree with, that I _really_ don’t agree with, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve always been there for him.” She paused. “I mean, you had every reason to never speak to him again after you guys broke up.”

Renly sat down wearily at his kitchen table; he wasn’t fooled by this sudden offer of friendship. “I bet that if I tell him that I don’t want to go back out with him, you won’t be being so nice,” he told her dryly.

She paused. “Well in some ways,” she said, “I’d have more respect for you if you told him you thought it wiser that you simply didn’t see each other anymore, but yes, you’re right, if that *is what you choose, I’ll probably help him pin a picture of your face to his wall and throw darts at it with him anyway. But that’s because he’d be upset and because I’m his sister.”

Renly sighed. He supposed that that made sense, even if he’d probably be more likely to hi-five a girl that had rejected Stannis or Robert than throw darts at her face.

“Anyway,” she said, a little awkwardly, “That’s all I wanted to say, so I’d better get going.” She slung her handbag back over her shoulder.

Renly almost invited to stay a little longer and then he remembered that they didn’t _actually_ like each other.

 

* * *

 

 

Somehow, Margaery stopping by made it all more real and Renly supposed he could delay telling Sansa no longer. He found her in her bedroom and she’d evidently had new headshots done because she was sat at her dressing table preening over them when Arya showed him up.

“Hey,” he sighed, peering over her shoulder at her photos. “Looking good.”

She turned around with a smile on her face. “Thanks,” she said. “Sandor paid for me to have them done.”

Renly perched on the edge of her chair. “Well they’re very nice,” he told her, unable to drum up too much enthusiasm.

She was onto him like a sniffer dog. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Renly just shrugged.

She just looked up at him. “Sit down,” she sighed, gesturing to her bed. “And tell me everything.”

Renly told Sansa only the barest of details. Not particularly because he thought he shouldn’t but because he was still too embarrassed over the whole thing. _Nobody_ , he thought, could ever know about Satin and Loras, and besides, he reckoned that Loras giving him an ultimatum wasn’t that unbelievable by itself.

Indeed, Sansa didn’t seem too surprised. She just sighed in the right places and gave him sympathetic looks which Renly suspected he probably didn’t deserve.

“A week or two then?” she asked quietly once Renly had finished. “How long have you had?”

“Six days.”

“And _have_ you changed your mind?” She looked up at him earnestly, her large blue eyes wide.

Renly sighed; he got the feeling that she expected him to change his mind as much as Loras did. “How _can_ I change my mind?” he muttered, wringing his hands. “I can’t lose him completely, Sansa. That’s not an option.”

“So your decision’s made then,” Sansa murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe it. You guys are going to be a couple again.”

Renly closed his eyes. “Suppose so,” he agreed. It still seemed strange to him. On one hand, he and Loras being a couple again seemed like the most natural thing in the world, but on the other, he couldn’t really imagine it. He wasn’t sure if a lot would change or if nothing would. 

“So what now?” Sansa breathed.

Renly shrugged. “I wait for Loras to get back in touch I suppose.” He bit his lip. “Or do you think I should go and find him?”

Sansa sighed. “Well sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I read this morning that he’s out of the country actually.”

Renly frowned. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. “He is?”

“Yeah,” Sansa nodded. “Skiing apparently. In Sweden, I think. With one of his brothers.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He wasn’t surprised to hear that Loras was a skier. His family was certainly posh enough to have had yearly skiing holidays in the Alps. “Who knew you could ski in bloody May,” he muttered.

Sansa just laughed. “I think you can ski at any time of year if you’ve got enough money.”

“Well god knows Loras has enough of that,” Renly sighed. It was odd, he thought, how someone could have all the money in the world and yet still not be happy.


	81. Chapter 81

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, those of you who read this in the first five minutes will have got the draft where Italics etc aren't properly put in. Apologies for that.

Loras had said a week or two and yet a good fortnight and a half passed without Renly even hearing a word from him. His calls went straight to voicemail, his texts went ignored and all in all, Renly was beginning to think that Loras wasn’t _ever_ planning on coming home- that he himself had changed his mind.

Renly was at his wits’ end and if it hadn’t been for Sansa doing her best to calm him down periodically, he thought he might have gone mad. It wasn’t like Loras to say he’d do something and then not follow through, and Renly had to wonder whether this was all part of some painful practical joke that Loras was playing on him, a ruse that was designed to torment him. Knowing how Loras held grudges, Renly really wouldn’t have put it past to him.

“I say you go to him,” Sansa said to him one morning at work. “Maybe this is a test? You know, that he’s playing hard to get and he wants you to chase him a little bit?”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes and point out that he and Loras were not twelve year old school girls. “Mmm,” he agreed in the least dismissive tone he could manage. Pushing his hair back off his face, he tried to focus on the stack of papers in front of him.

Sansa just sighed, a dreamy sigh that wouldn’t have sounded out of place coming from a damsel in distress. “It would be so romantic,” she smiled, “You could meet him at an airport gate somewhere, just as he’s about to board the plane, like in Love Actually.”

Renly didn’t even bother to point out how difficult that would be logistically. Firstly, such a feat would necessitate Loras being at an airport, secondly, it would necessitate them knowing _which_ airport, and that wasn’t even going into flight times and destinations and whatnot. He wondered if Sansa was expecting him to camp out at a random airport until Loras happened to turn up.

Perhaps Sansa realised this too for she hummed. “Or you could just surprise him where he’s staying,” she said. “That would be pretty nice too I guess.”

“I don’t even know where he is,” Renly mumbled, doggedly keeping at his paperwork.

Sansa looked up. “I told you,” she said loftily. “He’s in Sweden. _Skiing_.”

Renly sighed and brought google up on his computer. Deciding to humour her, he punched 'Loras Tyrell' into the search bar. A lot came up and Renly filtered it to only show material that had been published in the past week.

“The last article that said he was skiing was four days ago,” Renly said. “For all I know, he might have left.”

Sansa made a small sound of disagreement, leaning over him to stare at his computer too. “You do realise, Renly, that the moment Loras steps foot in an airport he’s going to be photographed a thousand times.”

Renly blew his hair out of his face and crossed his arms. “Well maybe he _drove_ ,” he suggested.

“Maybe he did,” Sansa agreed, more than a little sarcastically. “From the top of Sweden, all the way back. Roughing it through the mountains instead of flying. That sounds exactly like Loras.”

Renly just sighed. He couldn’t work out whether Sansa actually meant what she was saying. He turned to her a little wearily. “Sansa,” he asked.

“Yes?”

Renly closed his eyes briefly. “Are you being serious when you say that you think I should go and find him? _Actually?_ ”

Sansa pursed her lips and for a moment, she looked awfully like her mother. “Well why not?” she said. “From what it sounds like, you really insulted him that last time you were together. This would prove you’re actually serious about giving it your all.” She looked pointedly at him. “ _I’d_ love it if Sandor did something like that.”

“Well some of us aren’t hopeless romantics,” Renly muttered.

Sansa just raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Yes but consider your audience here. We’re talking about _Loras_.”

Renly had to laugh a little wryly. He couldn’t argue with her logic there; Loras _was_ a romantic at heart. Underneath all the attitude, he was probably as desperate as Sansa to be swept off his feet by someone he loved.

Evidently scenting that Renly was beginning to be swayed, Sansa came to perch on his desk. “So…” she said lightly, tapping away at the keyboard with delicate fingers. “Do I book you a flight?”

Renly sighed. “I don’t have any holiday,” he muttered, leaning his head against his desk wearily.

“You’ve still got three weeks to take,” Sansa corrected, prodding the back of his head. “And just think how surprised he’ll be! If that doesn’t prove how you feel about him, nothing will.”

Renly just sighed again, making the papers in front of him flutter. As foolish an idea as it was, she made it sound very tempting. He liked to think that Loras would be pleased to see him. He was falling into Sansa’s trap and imagining Loras catching sight of him out of the corner of his eye, a genuine smile coming to his face.

“Fine,” he said. “But if I end up in the middle of nowhere in a Swedish ski resort for nothing, I’m blaming you.”  


* * *

 

 

Renly was beyond tired when he finally got to the resort that Loras was allegedly staying in. Sansa had been serious about him being in the northernmost part of Sweden and Renly had had to take two flights and a bus to even get _near_ the resort before a taxi had taken him the rest of the way. Most of all though, he felt stupid. He only had the word of the media that Loras was here at all after all, and when he stopped to think about it, he couldn’t believe he’d ever decided to follow Sansa’s advice on this.

It was only midday local time when Renly trudged up through the snow into the centre of the resort and yet it felt like midnight. He felt even more hopeless when he got out his phone to find he had no signal. That said though, he reckoned it would have done him no good anyway. He’d tried Loras’ phone a thousand times back in the UK.

The only silver lining perhaps was that it was thankfully a very small resort. He found that the hotel that the Daily Mail reported Loras was staying in easily. He supposed that he should count himself lucky about that- the media after all had given him a literal paper trail to follow. Others had already done the stalking for him.

He walked into the lobby with confidence, head held high as it would need to be if he was ever going to pull this off. He knew well that half of getting into anywhere exclusive was pretending to belong there. It was only when he got to the front desk though that he realised he didn’t speak a word of Swedish.

Luckily the man greeted him in English. “Good day sir,” he addressed Renly, with just a hint of an accent in his voice. “How can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Garlan Tyrell,” Renly told him confidently. “If you could get a message to his room.” He thought he’d have better luck trying for Garlan. Asking for Loras would instantly bring up an instant red flag.

The man looked suspicious all the same, but on the good side, he didn’t tell Renly that they had no-one of that name staying. Renly supposed that that was a good sign. It meant at least that the media had got their info right.

“And you are sir…?” the man asked, looking Renly up and down. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he was taking in the evident quality of his clothes.

“Renly Baratheon,” Renly told him bluntly, as if it was obvious. “If you could send a message to his room, I would be grateful.” Without waiting for an answer, he took a seat in reception.

He evidently sounded convincing for the man picked up the phone. Soon Renly heard him politely repeating his name down the line.

 

It was only a few minutes later that Garlan himself bounced down the stairs at the back of the reception area. He’d evidently recently come in off the slopes for he had bright green trousers and a bobble hat on, a great woolly thing that was failing to restrain his curls. He gave Renly a rather enthusiastic wave.

“Well fancy seeing you here,” he laughed. “Loras never said.”

Renly got to his feet and tried to smile. “Well to be fair, Loras isn’t really expecting me…”

Garlan didn’t seem fazed. “Well you’ll certainly surprise him then,” he grinned. “Come on up. You can wait for him up in our rooms if you like.” Without waiting for an answer, he gestured for Renly to follow him out of the reception area.

“Where is he?” Renly asked as they climbed the stairs.

Garlan stopped at a window and gestured out to the snowy slopes above them. “He’s out there somewhere,” he told him cheerfully. “I came back an hour or so ago but he wanted to stay out a little longer.”

Renly stared out of the window too. The snow seemed to stretch on for miles, a veritable sea of white whose waves hugged the curves of the mountains. It looked like an easy place to get lost in. “He’s all by himself?” he asked.

Garlan just laughed. “Yeah,” he sighed, leaning heavily against the windowsill, “you shouldn’t really ski on your own but Loras doesn’t really care about stuff like that. There’s adrenaline junkies and then there’s Loras.”

Renly smiled a little wryly. “Well better an adrenaline junkie than the other kind,” he said, leaning against the sill too.

“Quite,” Garlan agreed with a laugh. Yawning, he pulled himself upright and continued up the stairs. “He should be back soon though. We usually have lunch right about now and I’m starving.”

Renly just smiled. He wasn’t surprised to hear that Garlan was more impatient for lunch than Loras evidently was. Loras, he reckoned, could probably get by on one meal a day and be happy with that. He was like a car that didn’t need petrol.

They’d reached the top of the stairs now and Garlan ushered Renly through a door and into one of the loveliest rooms Renly had ever had cause to step foot in. Wood panelling lined the walls, the carpet was soft and deep, and a fire roared in a grate in the centre of the room. It was the very definition of cosy and Renly could imagine long winter evenings spent here, huddled up under blankets in front of the fire and toasting marshmallows on a stick.

“This is a lovely place,” Renly told Garlan.

“Mmm,” Garlan agreed, sitting down at table that was the centrepiece of the room. “We actually have a chalet of our own in France but the season’s finished there. And when Loras has his whims, there’s really no talking him out of it…”

Renly just laughed and took a seat by the window where he’d be out of Garlan’s way. He knew that all too well. Trying to get Loras to change his mind could often be as fruitful as yelling at a brick wall and telling it to move.

It was about half an hour before the door was swung open and Renly felt his heart leap into his mouth. Loras’ cheeks were pink and there was a dusting of snow in his windswept curls. He didn’t seem to notice Renly as he came in, far too preoccupied with pulling off his many layers.

“Good time?” Garlan asked him, a wide smile playing at his lips.

Loras half shrugged, a red jumper still partially over his head. “Yeah,” he said. “Snow’s good today. Visibility’s pretty decent too.”

Garlan nodded enthusiastically. “Fall at all?”

Loras just snorted. “No.” He’d got the red jumper off over his head now and now he’d moved onto a different one, a navy one this time. He seemed offended at the idea of falling and Renly had to smile fondly.

Garlan sat up a little taller in his chair. “You have a visitor, you know, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Huh?” Loras’ voice was muffled by the layers of navy fabric. It took him a good few tries to get this one over his head and when he did, he looked up.

Loras’ eyes widened when his gaze fell on Renly. He blinked a couple of times before a slight frown tugged at his face. It was a wary expression, but one that Renly was pleased to see had a slight hint of curiosity to it too.

“Hi,” Renly said quietly. He didn’t know whether he should go and hug him or something as was befitting of what they’d agreed on before Loras had left. After a few seconds had passed though, he settled for staying seated and giving him a lame wave.

Loras just stood frozen to the spot. “Hey,” he breathed. He ran a hand a little self-consciously through his hair as if he were worried about what it looked like. It was a gesture that looked quite strange on him and Renly didn’t know what to say.

A rather tense silence fell.

Garlan looked like he wanted to laugh. “You know what,” he said, his chair scraping against the wooden floor as he got to his feet. “I’ll leave you guys to it. Think I’m going to go down to the lobby and call Leonette. Use one of the payphones.” Bouncing over to the door, he gave them a wink before letting himself out.

Both Loras and Renly had turned to watch him go, but now Loras turned back towards him and their eyes met again. “What are you doing here?” he murmured.

It was Renly’s turn to run a hand rather anxiously through his hair. “Well were you _ever_ planning on coming back?” he asked. He felt more than a little stupid now; Sansa had evidently been wrong when she’d suggested that Loras was expecting him to chase after him a little.

Loras frowned at his question and folded his arms across his chest. “Course I was planning on coming back,” he said. “I said I’d give you a week or two remember?”

Renly did remember. “And it’s almost been three,” he pointed out.

Loras looked genuinely surprised and he shuffled a little awkwardly. “Give or take a few days then. I was going to come back _soon_.” Turning his back to him slightly, he began pulling off yet another jumper.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Could have told _me_ that,” he mumbled.

Loras didn’t appear to have heard. He just continued delayering until he was in a t-shirt. It was quite a thin one, and Renly had to sigh as he looked at him. He’d evidently got a little hot out on the slopes and the fabric clung to him rather tantalisingly. Renly rather wanted to peel it off him.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” Renly murmured.

Loras just hummed. “Did you?” he asked lightly, folding his jumpers on the nearby table.

“Yeah,” Renly mumbled, trying not to let on that he’d expected a rather more enthusiastic response. “A lot.” He paused, feeling incredibly stupid. “Did you, um, miss me at all?”

Loras just shrugged and looked up from his folding. “Ren,” he said bluntly. “I always miss you when you’re not around.”

There was a silence as Renly worked through that. It made him feel warm and fuzzy but also a little frightened. Loras’ words reminded him a little of how much Loras often needed him- a thought that was always a little daunting. It was a _responsibility_ going back out with Loras. Well back on his feet as he was, he still remained a recovery in progress, a project that needed much time and effort to be invested in him.

Loras didn’t seem bothered by the silence and he merely to sit on the floor in front of the fire once he’d finished with his jumpers, warming his fingers next to flames.

Eventually, he glanced back up at Renly. “Want some lunch?” he asked. “Guess you must be hungry.”

“I am,” Renly agreed. The mundane stuff seemed somehow helpful. He got the feeling that neither of them wanted to get into the complicated stuff really. They’d need to at some point surely, but that would require one of them refusing to beat about the bush.

Loras thrust a menu at him. “Choose something then,” he said lazily, leaning back on his elbows.

Renly only scanned the menu briefly. “It’s got to be the meatballs,” he said. “To see if they’re better than Ikea’s.”

Loras just rolled his eyes and shuffled a little way across the floor until he was near enough to reach up for a phone that was attached to the wall. He seemed to be put through quickly and he placed his order rather bluntly, making no effort to try and speak even a word of Swedish.

“You coming out with me in the afternoon then?” he asked once he’d put down the phone.

Renly frowned, confused. “Where is there to go?” he asked. “This place is dead.” Indeed, when he’d trudged his way through the resort, he hadn’t even seen so much as a cinema.

“I meant skiing,” Loras said dryly.

Renly grinned sheepishly; _that_ , he supposed, had probably been rather evident. “I’m tired,” he said in his defence. “Bit slow today.”

Loras just rolled his eyes. He’d returned to sit by the fire now but had his back to it, facing Renly. “So will you or won’t you?” he asked.

Renly had to laugh. He couldn’t really imagine himself on skis. If it was anything like ice skating, he imagined that he’d be pretty atrocious. He reckoned it was something to do with being so tall- the ground always seemed so far away. “Well I’ve never skied before so maybe it’d be best if I didn’t.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked.

“Well yeah,” Renly shrugged, grinning. I’m not sure I’ve even _seen_ a pair of skis actually.” It was true. Cersei had often taken the kids on ski holidays but he’d always been shipped off to Stannis whilst they’d been away. He’d certainly never been taken along.

“And you don’t want to have a go?” Loras looked a little baffled.

Renly laughed. “I’d be like Bambi on ice.”

Loras cocked his head slightly. “Well I’d help you,” he said.

Renly made a face. “I don’t know… I mean, I bet you’re really good. I’d just get in your way and slow you down.” He had visions of himself sliding down the hill on his arse while Loras zigzagged around him and waited impatiently for him to join him at the bottom. Turning up here unannounced had been embarrassing enough already and he imagined that Loras seeing him on skis would be the cherry on the top of the cake.

Loras rolled his eyes though. “I don’t mind you _getting in my way_ ,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve had a whole two weeks of pelting down black runs.”

Renly had to laugh. “Fine,” he said.

“Great.” Loras gave him a genuine smile. “It’ll be fun.”

Renly just nodded. He supposed that it perhaps would be fun. He was more worried, however, by the fact that they hadn’t even come close to having a serious conversation about what was happening between them. The elephant in the room was surely glaringly obvious to the both of them and yet neither he nor Loras seemed brave enough to tackle it.


	82. Chapter 82

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap. Had to hand in my thesis on Friday!

Renly hadn’t bought any attire that was suitable for skiing but luckily for him, the hotel was a helpful one- evidently used to pandering to rich disorganised clients- and it quickly assembled everything that he needed. Indeed, it was barely an hour after lunch that Renly found himself following Loras outside, very long skis tucked under his arm, heavy boots on his feet and dressed head to toe in a garish blue ensemble that Renly reckoned he made look surprisingly stylish. To finish the look, Loras had lent him a pair of sunglasses that seemed far too expensive for an activity which would surely involve a lot of falling down- despite the fact that Loras had spent the better part of a quarter of an hour going through how to stop.

Even now Renly felt clumsy and he hadn’t even put his feet in the skis yet. Where Loras somehow managed to keep the long slats of wood neatly together as he carried them, his ones kept slipping out of place. Several times he almost dropped them.

“It doesn’t actually feel that cold,” Renly said, risking loosening his grip on his skis to brush his hair out of his eyes. He was glad of the sunglasses now; whilst it was surprisingly warm, it was also surprisingly bright.

Loras just shrugged, placing his own skis on the ground. “That’s because it really _isn’t_ that cold,” he said. “It’s May. Practically tropical.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yeah well we’re not all experts on the spring ski season.”

It was Loras’ turn to roll his eyes and he merely reached out a hand for Renly’s skis. “Here,” he said, surveying the slope that they’d reached. “Here is as good as place as any. I’ll show you how to get your skis on.”

Renly took a deep breath. The piste that they’d stopped beside had reassuring green poles lining both its edges, which Renly knew signified that it was supposedly an easy slope, but it seemed rather steep regardless. He said nothing though; Loras, he knew, would judge if he sensed any hint of fear.

“So you always should put your skis at a right angle to the slope,” Loras was saying. “Otherwise you’ll just slide straight down.”

Renly nodded a little absent-mindedly. He was still studying the slope below them. As much as he enjoyed the idea of extreme sports, he reckoned that he was probably happier watching other people participate in them. As far as he was concerned, the best part of any sport was getting to watch it, to drink beer from a comfortable chair on the side-lines and to sing along with the bawdy chants.

The sound of Loras clicking his fingers brought Renly out of his thoughts. “Renly,” he said sharply. “I’m speaking to you. Head out of clouds.”

Renly just grinned a little sheepishly and quickly nodded along. “Bring it on then,” he chuckled.

Loras just raised an eyebrow. “You sound like I’m sending you to the slaughter,” he muttered. He sounded a little amused too though, and bending slightly, he picked up one of Renly’s legs, his fingers tickling the back of Renly’s knee even through the thick skiing trousers. “Now put your foot in this gap here,” he instructed, guiding him into the right position. “And now push down with your heel. It should click into place.”

Renly pushed as he was bid. The resulting click was rather satisfying. “Well that’s easy enough,” he laughed.

“Well do the other foot then,” Loras told him, smiling, his arms folded across his chest. With an ease that made Renly want to hit him, he kicked his feet into his skis one after the other.

Indeed, Loras made it look easier than it was and Renly’s smile quickly faded as he tentatively lifted his other foot. It left him feeling more than a little wobbly and he hurriedly put it back down. It took him three attempts before he managed to get it anywhere near the other ski. He lost his balance immediately and had to grab Loras’ arm to stop himself toppling over.

“Bloody hell,” Loras laughed, but he managed to steady Renly all the same despite being in skis himself. He had the good grace too to hold Renly up whilst he clicked his foot into place.

Renly felt a little better when both of his feet were in his skis but he refused to let go of Loras all the same. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that Loras was the only thing now that was stopping him sliding down the slope in front of him.

“God you’re heavy,” Loras groaned, grinning all the same. “You don’t have to lean quite that hard.”

Renly didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. “Yeah but I feel like I’m going to go careering down there,” he laughed. He pointed down the hill and his knees felt a little bit more wobbly just looking.

Loras rolled his eyes. “Well careering down there is the eventual aim,” he said dryly. “But don’t worry, it’s not very steep.”

Renly looked again and felt just a little dizzy. “Well your definition of not very steep differs from mine.” His fingers dug into Loras’ shoulders with a little more.

Loras just smirked.

“I guess it flattens out eventually,” Renly grinned, looking further ahead. “So I’d stop at some point right? Even if I don’t manage that snowplough stopping thing.”

Loras just shrugged and smiled sweetly up at him. “I wouldn’t worry,” he said. “You’ll probably fall down long before you get to the end.”

“You’re inspiring so much confidence in me…”

Loras’ smile widened. “I try.”

Renly just rolled his eyes.

“But don’t worry. I’ve told you how to stop and it’s fairly intuitive.” Smirking again, Loras took hold of Renly’s wrists with his hands and guided them off his shoulders. He didn’t leave him to stand completely unaided though and, dropping their hands to waist height, he interlocked their fingers. Looking down at them, Renly had to smile- despite the fact that he felt much more unsteady like this. Neither of them were wearing gloves and Renly couldn’t remember the last time they’d held hands. It seemed such a simple gesture, and yet Renly thought it good that they get back to basics, that they start again from scratch and not rush into anything too serious too soon. They’d been guilty of that the first time round perhaps; they’d only been dating a few months after all before Loras had moved in with him.

Loras looked down at their entwined hands too before he spoke again, and Renly thought he saw a small smile fleetingly light up his face. “You ready to have a go then?” he asked, a rather rough thumb sliding over Renly’s.

Renly grinned, squeezing Loras’ hands a little tighter. “You’ll pick me up if I fall down though won’t you?”

Loras actually smiled a proper smile this time. “Sure I will,” he laughed. “Now come on, you’ll have to let go of me at some point.”

Renly just rolled his eyes and let go. Immediately, air seemed to be whistling past his ears, even though he really couldn’t have been going that fast at all. It was easier to balance than he’d expected though and he understood instantly why people enjoyed skiing so much. He could feel the wind in his hair, the cool air against his skin; it was a little like flying really.

He'd just begun to relax and think that this was a piece of cake when he went over a bump and careered instantly into a snow bank at the side of the piste. Snow filled his nose, mouth and ears and yet he could still hear Loras laughing somewhere behind him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had been right to assume that Loras was a good skier. He was beautiful to watch, like a swan gliding across water or a swallow across a sky. It was like he was born on skis and he put Renly’s attempts to shame.

He was true to his word though. If he minded being slowed down by Renly, he didn’t show it at all. He watched Renly like a hawk and he must have picked Renly up out of the snow more than half a dozen times. In fact, if Renly had counted correctly, he was now on his eighth fall of the afternoon. He’d been trying to turn like Loras had showed him- by shifting his weight off his inside leg or something like that- but all he’d managed to do was to cross his skis and fall down, tangling his legs irreparably in the process.

Luckily Loras wasn’t too far. He’d been watching Renly’s progress from a vantage point a little further up the slope and now he raced down to join him. He picked up a remarkable amount of speed even over such as short distance and Renly had just decided that he was surely going to run him over when he came to a sharp stop just in front of him, showering him with snow.

“You _bastard_ ,” Renly laughed. Snow had got down the back of his neck and he shuddered as icy drops of water trickled down his back.

Loras just smirked innocently down at him, and for what seemed like the thousandth time that afternoon, bent down and began untangling Renly’s legs for him. Renly just rolled his eyes, and reaching out, gave a short sharp tug on Loras’ sleeve. It sent him tumbling instantly down too, and whist Renly received a rather painful jab in the thigh from Loras’ ski and an elbow in the chest, he reckoned that it was definitely worth it to see him fall.

“What was that for!” Loras was laughing though, the sound reverberating through both of their bodies, and Renly had to grin up at him. It was so long since he’d heard Loras sound so carefree. He actually sounded happy, and that was an emotion that Renly didn’t reckon he’d properly associated with Loras for a good two years.

“That was for showering me with snow,” Renly told him with a smirk.

Loras cocked an eyebrow. “Was it?” he murmured, shifting his weight slightly above him.

Renly just smiled up at him. The snow was cold against his back but Loras was warm and solid above him, so close that he’d only have to move slightly to kiss him. Renly sighed heavily. He had no idea where he stood with Loras- except that it was a very fragile place indeed- but he couldn’t help wanting to test the waters. Tentatively, he slipped a hand into Loras’ windswept hair, cupping the back of his neck, anchoring him there.

Loras’ laughter stilled as soon as their eyes met. Neither of them said anything but Renly imagined that Loras understood he was asking for his permission, that he wanted to kiss him.

For a moment Loras hesitated, but then Renly saw him swallow above him, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat before he closed the distance between them. It was possibly the chastest kiss they’d ever shared- possibly the chastest kiss Renly had ever shared with anyone- but Renly could feel Loras’ smile and that was worth both of their weights in gold.

Renly smiled up at him when they parted. He supposed he should say something, but he didn’t really know the right words. He supposed it was ridiculous that this felt like such an achievement, that sharing such a simple kiss felt like a milestone they'd passed. But then again, Renly supposed that this was the first time he'd kissed Loras in over two years without it being illicit- something that he shouldn't be doing. 

Eventually Loras cleared his throat. “Come on,” he murmured, shifting off him and untangling their skis. “It’s getting late and you’re cold and wet. We should probably be getting back.”

Renly just nodded and let Loras pull him to his feet.

 

* * *

 

 

They exchanged few words on the ski lift that they took back up to the hotel but Renly didn’t think it was too awkward a silence. Surrounded by white sky and snow, it didn’t exactly seem the place for idle conversation. Loras did take his arm though when it was time to get off, and Renly supposed that that was a rather nice gesture.

They left their skis in a room on the ground floor of the hotel before heading up to back to Loras’ and Garlan’s suite. It hadn’t really felt like exhausting work at the time, but now, as he climbed step after painful step, Renly’s thighs felt as if he’d been doing squats all day. He felt absolutely exhausted.

The fire was still going in the grate when they came in but had reduced from the roaring furnace it had been earlier to more of a gentle flicker. Garlan was nowhere to be seen, however, and Renly turned to Loras, curious.

“Where’s your brother?” he asked.

Loras just shrugged, shaking the snow out of his hair. “Probably asleep?” he offered simply.

Renly frowned. “Really?” He’d lost track of how long they’d been out, but it was still light out. “I mean, it’s not even dark. Bit early isn’t it?”

Loras smirked, turning back to face him. “Come on, Cambridge grad, you can do better than that.”

Renly made a face and glanced up at the clock on the wall. According to its hands, it was almost eleven. A little baffled, he walked over to the window. As he’d thought, it was still light. Leaning against the windowsill a little, he thought. It took him a good few minutes to work it out.

“Are we really that far north?” he asked, turning back towards Loras.

“Yep,” Loras laughed. “The sun won’t set here until September apparently.”

Renly let out a long whistle and drew back from the window. “Well that’s cool,” he said. “Guess winter must really be miserable though.” He couldn’t image being in the dark for a whole six months.

Loras just shrugged and drew the curtains. Luckily they were thick and heavy and shrouded the whole room in darkness as if the sun had actually set, the dancing flames providing the only light until Loras crossed the room to flick on a lamp. He then unzipped his ski jacket, throwing it across the nearest chair and stifling a yawn.

Renly scratched his head a little awkwardly as he watched him. Loras was clearly preparing to go to bed and Renly really didn’t want to take anything for granted. “Loras,” he murmured. “Do you want me to go downstairs and book into a room or anything?”

Loras shrugged. “If you like, Ren. I’d assumed you’d come in with me.”

“Well I can if you don’t mind,” Renly said tentatively.

“I don’t,” Loras yawned. “Do you want to shower first?”

Renly laughed. “Nah, you go ahead.” He knew from experience that it was always better to let Loras shower first if you were going to be sharing any kind of pillow with him afterwards. Where most people used a hairdryer or at least a towel to dry their hair, Loras tended to shun both. Every minute of drying time before you had to climb into a bed with him was precious.

Maybe Loras knew this too because he didn’t bother arguing. He just pulled his second jumper over his head and headed in the direction of the bathroom. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll try and be quick.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes, looking Renly up and down. “And there’s all sorts of things in the fridge if you’re hungry, so just help yourself.”

Renly did help himself. He gorged on enough bread and cheese that he reckoned he cancelled out all the exercise he’d done today. Loras was true to his word though and he was surprisingly quick in the shower.

Loras was already in bed when Renly came out of the shower himself and was lounging across the side that was traditionally his with a magazine. As Renly had expected, Loras had made little effort to dry his hair and just had a towel over the pillow. More surprisingly, he had pyjamas on- clothes which Loras had never used to bother with- and Renly wondered whether they’d been put on as a warning to him, if they were intended to give him the clear message that nothing untoward would be going on tonight.

Renly suddenly wished that he’d put a pyjama top on himself. He didn’t like the fact that he was the less-dressed of the two of them. It would be too obvious if he went and put one on now though and so Renly merely climbed into the opposite side of the bed.

“Thanks for looking after me tonight,” Renly told him, pulling the covers up over his bare shoulders and rolling onto his side.

Loras just laughed. “No worries,” he said.

“And for not taking pictures of me falling down.”

Loras just raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s what you think.”

Renly winced. It was always hard to tell when Loras was joking or not and now was no different. Rolling his eyes, he got comfortable in bed. It was less awkward than he had expected it to be moments ago, but he wondered if that was only because they were both exhausted and because Loras’ pyjamas were sending him a very clear message. Garlan’s presence in the room next door had to help.

Loras shut his magazine and placed it on the bedside table. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured. He made no attempt though to close the gap between them and Renly got the feeling that he was more comfortable like this.

Renly just smiled at him and made no effort to close the gap either. Surprisingly perhaps, he was glad he was here too. It was reassuring to know that he and Loras were still capable of spending a day together and actually having a good time. He supposed that the fact they still enjoy each other’s company was promising even if very little else was.

Loras settled down in bed too then and Renly closed his eyes, surprisingly content. He and Loras weren’t actually touching under the covers but Renly could feel the warmth of him beside him. That was rather comforting, despite the fact that Renly knew his proximity would have been driving him crazy if he hadn’t been so exhausted. He wasn’t exactly very good after all at being able to look but not touch. He supposed though that touching was a right he would have to earn and something that they’d quite possibly have to talk about too.

Biting back a sigh, he reopened his eyes. “Loras,” he murmured.

“Mmm?”

“We’re going to try and make this work right?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Well if you still want to.”

Renly just gritted his teeth and refused to rise to that bait. “Well I was just wondering if we needed to, you know, talk about how things are going to be and everything. What changes we need to make and everything.”

Loras shut his eyes at that, looking weary all of a sudden. “Sure,” he agreed. “But back in London okay?”

Renly nodded, a little relieved. “And when are we going back to London?” he breathed.

Loras just shrugged. “Soon, I suppose.”

Renly just sighed and seeing as Loras seemed to not want to bother opening his eyes again, he leant over to turn the bedside lamp off himself. Settling back down under the covers, he had to bite back another sigh. Part of him wanted to open his mouth again and beg Loras to let them stay in this ski chalet indefinitely but even he knew that they couldn’t bury their heads in the sand forever, that they’d have to face reality at some point.


	83. Chapter 83

“For the last time, Ren, we’re _not_ stopping to give autographs.” With a fierceness that matched his tone, Loras grabbed Renly’s arm and all but marched him through the airport lobby.

Renly couldn’t help but pout a little at that, craning his head back around to look at the teenager who was still desperately waving a piece of paper and a pen at Loras’ back. “But she was only like fifteen,” he argued. “She seemed so excited to see you. _And_ she’s probably lived in darkness for the last six months. Don’t you have at least a little pity for her?”

Loras was wearing sunglasses, as all celebrities seemed to do whenever they came within a ten mile radius of an airport, but Renly could practically _hear_ him rolling his eyes anyway. He was clearly not impressed and he just gripped Renly's arm harder, his fingers digging into him like a claw as he steered him through the crowds of Swedish travellers, many of whom were gawping at them.  

“Just tell me why not?” Renly pressed. “It would only take a second. It’s just one autograph.”

Loras sighed heavily. “It’s never just one autograph though. She’ll have friends, and family, and as soon as I stop I’ll be surrounded. You give people an inch and they'll take a mile. Everyone within a five mile radius will be waving post-it notes at me, or their dirty worn underwear. And nowadays that’s not even enough. Everyone wants god damn selfies too, and they take _time_.”

Renly let out a long breath. He understood where Loras was coming from and so he didn’t bother arguing. Still though, he couldn’t help but glance back at the girl with a little disappointment. She looked so crestfallen, so let down. He imagined that if he'd been Loras, he'd have _had_ to stop and make her day. 

“Fine," he conceded grimly. Sighing, he thought he should change the subject. "And where’s your brother got to anyway? Is he meeting us through security or something?”

Loras just walked a little faster. “Garlan? He’s not coming with us.”

Renly frowned. “Why not?” Garlan had been in the cab that had brought them here; he'd just assumed that they'd all be travelling together. As much as Garlan was clearly a third wheel in some respects, Renly hadn't got the feeling that he particularly cared. Indeed, Renly had to wonder whether Loras' brother was even capable of feeling awkward about a situation. 

Loras just shrugged. “Said he wanted to give us our privacy. So he’s flying commercial.”

Renly ignored how American Loras sounded when he said that. “We’re _not_ flying commercial?” he asked. He wondered how expensive that was. He imagined very. 

Loras just snorted. “Of course we’re not. I actually don’t mind flying commercial usually but you don’t think we’re going to stop over in Stockholm do you? Or take one of the rare Heathrow flights that leaves at midnight?”

Renly said nothing. Whilst he understood why they might not want to take a red-eye flight, he didn’t really see why they couldn't manage the hour long stop-over in Stockholm. It wasn’t really as if Loras had places to go or people to see. Indeed, Renly reckoned that if he hadn't turned up, Loras would probably have stayed a good while longer on his ski-break. 

“So no,” Loras continued, “I’ve hired a plane.”

Renly turned to him. “Just for the two of us?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Renly tried to walk faster, to ensure he kept up. In theory, his legs should have been longer, but he supposed that Loras had experience with having to walk very fast but elegantly. “Well isn’t flying privately expensive?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “It is. But don’t fuss. I won’t exactly be sending you a cheque in the mail for your share.”

Renly grinned. He wasn’t going to complain. It wasn’t as if Loras didn’t have enough money to be able to throw it around, and anyway, he’d never flown in a private jet before. It certainly wasn’t something that he was going to turn down. 

He quickly understood why Loras favoured flying privately. Check in was a blur; it involved nothing more than them showing their passports to a woman in a red coat before they were whisked into a separate part of the airport to board a plane that was surprisingly large for what was presumably just the two of them. Someone somewhere, he knew, would be tearing their hair out at the size of their carbon footprint, but Renly didn't particularly find it in him to care. He rather liked not having to argue with the lady on check-in about how heavy his baggage was, and he definitely liked knowing that there wasn't going to be any screaming children on board who would insist on kicked his seat.

He felt a little like royalty as he climbed the steps up to the plane and that feeling didn't ebb away when he was ushered inside by two very attractive air hostesses. The interior was even more startling. There were no rows of seats on this plane. Instead it had sofas and armchairs arranged in a sort of semi-circle that looked onto a very large flat-screen TV. To the right of that there was even a dining table, complete with proper silverware and a vase of flowers. Everything was modern, shiny, and Renly rather wished that their flight was longer.

“Wow,” Renly breathed as he looked around. “I think I could live in here.”

Loras shrugged, signing something that a nearby air hostess handed him. “Yeah, it's not too shabby.” He sat down on the nearest sofa and Renly just grinned at him. It was one of those good ones- with cushions and blankets and an extending bit so that they could stretch their legs out. In fact, Renly wondered whether he’d died and gone to heaven. All he needed was for the gorgeous air hostesses to be replaced with equally hot- and preferably shirtless- air stewards and he reckoned he'd have been set for life. 

“We’ll be having dinner in about an hour,” Loras said as Renly sat down to join him and the air hostesses filed dutifully out into another section of the plane. “But if you’re hungry already, there’s a list here of all the snacks that they carry.” Picking up a leather bound menu off a small coffee table next to the sofa, Loras chucked it carelessly in Renly’s direction.

Renly didn’t even open it. He was more distracted by what Loras had said first. “Dinner?” he asked, trying to contain his excitement. “What’s for dinner?”

Loras clearly had to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Ren,” he said wearily. “Do you ever think about anything other than food?”

Renly grinned. “Sure I do,” he laughed. “I think ab-“

“Other than food and sex then?”

Renly’s grin widened and he scratched his head a little sheepishly. “Course I do,” he chuckled. “I think about loads of other stuff. Can’t think of anything right now... but I’m sure there’s loads of stuff.”

Loras actually did roll his eyes this time. “Sure there is,” he agreed dryly. He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Well anyway, you’re having steak- what Garlan ordered for the return journey. I could have rung up to change it but I figured you’d be okay with that.”

Renly grinned. “Yeah I’m definitely okay with that.”

“Good.”

A man's voice echoed over the intercom then and Loras quickly hushed. Even he apparently wasn't cocky enough to ignore whatever the pilot needed to say to them. As it was though, it seemed that it was all rather standard. They were told only that they would need to wear their seatbelts during take-off and landing and that the crew wished them a pleasant flight- and that they should press a large button on the wall if they needed assistance with anything. 

That the service would be impeccable was unsurprising. It was the continued existence of safety regulations that had left him a little baffled. "These sofas have seatbelts?" Renly asked Loras. It seemed a strange concept to him. Seatbelts belonged on stiff uncomfortable chairs, not on plush sofas. 

"Mmm," Loras murmured. "They have to. It's aviation regulations." He fished under several of the cushions and found the seatbelt that was for his own sofa cushion. He fastened it easily before searching for Renly's. 

Bringing his legs up onto the sofa once that was all done, Loras then flicked on the TV and brought up a long list of movies. “Here,” he said. “You choose. I know how much you like Netflix and this is even better.”

His smile widening, Renly scrolled through them as he felt the plane jolt to life underneath them. It _was_ better than Netflix, but there was too _much_ choice almost. Renly didn’t know where to begin making his decision and a little overwhelmed, he turned to Loras. “Anything you fancy in particular?” he asked.

Loras shrugged, busy unfolding one of the many blankets. “No,” he said. “As long as it’s not Trainspotting or the Wolf of Wall Street, I’m game for whatever.”

Renly grinned. That was a shame; he thought that that genre of film would be quite amusing to watch in the company of Loras. Awkward yes, but highly amusing too. “Have you even seen the Wolf of Wall Street?” he asked.

“Yeah, once.”

The plane was picking up speed now and Renly felt the familiar rush as they suddenly became airborne. “And did you like it?” he asked. 

Loras took a while to answer, busy looking out of the window as Kiruna airport became smaller and smaller beneath them. “Yeah,” he said. “I did actually.” Lazily, he unbuckled his seatbelt, apparently convinced that they'd taken off enough. 

Renly followed suit. “Did it not make you feel nostalgic for your habits?” he asked. 

“No,” Loras said bluntly. “Because I was incredibly high when I saw it.”

Renly had to chuckle. “Oh," he said. "I imagine that must have been quite fun.” He'd only seen that film post his break up with Loras and it had made even him a little curious about the sort of state that drugs could put you in. 

Loras just shrugged. “Suppose so. It does glamorise that sort of lifestyle a whole lot.” He yawned loudly, stretching out across the sofa now he was free of his seatbelt. “That came out when we were together you know. You asked if I wanted to go see it and I was convinced that you were on to me.”

Renly laughed. “I don’t’ remember,” he admitted.

“Well you wouldn’t,” Loras agreed. “It was just an offhand comment from you. It was the big Christmas film and everyone was going to see it. But me, I knew what some of the subject matter was and I read way too much into you suggesting that we go see it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess that’s paranoia for you, huh?”

Renly smiled. “Well yeah,” he murmured. “But you weren’t very well back then. You couldn’t help being paranoid.”

Loras just shrugged, stifling another yawn.

Renly got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “You tired?” he asked instead. He wouldn't have been surprised. He reckoned it had been years now since he'd seen Loras look anything less than tired. 

“Mmm,” Loras murmured. “Spent all yesterday having to heave someone very heavy up onto their feet.”

Renly grinned. “Sounds traumatic,” he agreed. He paused then, shifting to look at Loras a little contemplatively before he reckoned he'd try his luck and push for a little friendly intimacy. “You want a hug?” he asked. "You know, to make up for all that heavy lifting you were forced to do yesterday?"

Loras raised an eyebrow, considering him for a good few moments. “Yeah go on then,” he said.

Renly grinned and slung his arm over Loras’ shoulder. Pulling him close, he commandeered the blanket too and tucked it around both of them. He couldn't help but smile when he looked down at his handiwork. There was something about being close with someone that lifted his mood. “See,” he chuckled into Loras' hair. “This isn’t so bad is it?”

“No it’s not,” Loras agreed. He leant his head heavily against Renly’s shoulder, resting it there for a good few moments before he spoke again. “You know what Ren," he murmured, "it feels like so long since we’ve been like this.”

Renly laughed. “Well where were you this morning?” he asked, tightening an arm around him. “I was all up for a morning cuddle and you were nowhere to be seen.”

“I was packing.” Loras’ reply was rather dry, and very blunt. Renly wasn’t sure if he’d cottoned on to the fact that he’d meant it fondly.

“I know you were,” Renly agreed. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh.” Loras just leant back into his shoulder and Renly had to smile, closing his eyes happily and basking in the soft warmth of him. For all Loras’ words earlier, it probably hadn’t been all that long since they’d been like this. It was one of the things he’d never truly been able to give up and he suspected that he’d probably been consistently too generous with the sort of physical contact he’d allowed himself with Loras over the past year. All the same though, it was very refreshing to feel like this was something he was actually allowed to do- that he was encouraged to do even. 

“Hey, Ren,” Loras murmured after a few moments, “that chat you wanted to have…”

Renly opened his eyes. “The one we’re saving for back in London? What about it?”

Loras shrugged. “Well we’ve got four and a half hours to kill right now,” he said bluntly, taking his head off Renly’s shoulder and sitting up slightly. “And I wouldn’t even have the option of storming off.”

“You do have a habit of doing that,” Renly admitted with a laugh. Despite his cheery tone, however, his heart had sunk very quickly at Loras' words. He'd rather looked forward to enjoying the novelty of such an amazing flight. He supposed though that Loras wouldn't see it the same way. He imagined that for Loras this would all be rather mundane, more of a chore than something to be particularly enjoyed.

“I’m well aware I have a habit of stalking out," Loras admitted. "Which is why I'm suggesting we make use of these four hours where you have me confined in a room."

Renly had to grimace. He hoped to god that Loras wasn't suggesting that they take the entirety of the four hours. That sounded to him like something out of a nightmare; he'd been thinking more along the lines of half an hour for such a conversation. And besides, Renly reckoned that he could think of _much_ more appealing things to get up to when he had a man trapped in a room for four hours.

All the same though, he sighed, determined to be at least a little sensible for once. “So ground rules huh? Any ideas?”

Loras sighed heavily at that and pulled himself out of Renly’s embrace. Renly wanted to protest but he supposed that he could understand why Loras didn’t want to be all cuddly during a conversation like this. He remembered Loras telling him once that he found it difficult to think clearly when they were too close, and he imagined that this was a chat that Loras would want to have a clear head for.

“Well I’ll probably stay at my new place if that’s ok, rather than come to live with you again.”

Renly felt a little conflicted as he heard that. On one hand he wanted to breathe a sigh of relief- such an arrangement would clearly be for the best and he’d hardly wanted to hurt Loras’ feelings by suggesting it himself. On the other hand he felt a little stung himself. He'd definitely assumed that Loras would want to move straight back in with him and the sentimental part of him definitely wanted to have a little cry to hear that this wasn't in fact the case. 

 “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” he admitted slowly, ignoring that sentimental part of himself entirely. “I want you to have your own life, Loras. I think that that’s very important for you still.”

“Mmm.” Loras merely stared down at the blanket that he had over his knees still.

Renly nodded slowly, choosing his next words carefully. He knew this was a bit of a sensitive topic for Loras. After all, in the two years that he’d actually been part of Loras’ life, he had never once known him to have a single friend. He’d never met anyone for coffee, or had anyone round for dinner. Indeed, aside from those rather strange walks round the park that he’d used to take with Beric, not once had Renly known Loras to meet up with anyone aside from his sister.

“And I think it might be nice especially if you tried to make a few friends,” Renly suggested gingerly, trying to keep his tone gentle.

Loras just shrugged. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It would. Well I’m going to be starting at that college in September. It’s all arranged now. I guess I’ll make friends there.” He didn’t sound so sure though and his expression wobbled a little tellingly.

Renly smiled. “I’m sure you will,” he soothed.

Loras shrugged again, fidgeting with the ends of the blanket with jittery hands. “I dunno,” he muttered. “I mean, I’ll be older than everyone else.” He looked up at Renly. “And I don’t make friends like you do. I know I’m not very approachable.”

“Well then you’ll have to do the approaching,” Renly laughed, hoping it didn’t sound hollow. He tried to force a convincing smile. “You’ll do fine. I bet everyone at this college will want to be your friend.”

“Mmm, but not for the right reasons. It’ll be just because I’m famous.”

“Yeah probably,” Renly admitted. He wasn’t going to bother to lie to him. “But you’ll have to give them the benefit of the doubt. People might start off as hangers-on and actually really like you when they get to know you.” He patted Loras’ shoulder. “I mean, take me for example. _I_ approached you because you were famous. And here we are, two and a half years down the line and I still haven’t managed to get rid of you yet.”

Loras raised a small smile even whilst he rolled his eyes. 

Renly reached for his hand, squeezing it. “But anyway, we’re off topic. I was insisting that I want you to have your own life.”

Loras nodded. “Sure,” he said.

Renly scratched his head, choosing his next words carefully too. “And I want you to promise me something else if that’s alright with you.”

Loras' brow furrowed. “What?”

Renly glanced around before he spoke, making sure that they were still alone and that none of the glamorous air hostesses had seen fit to interrupt. “You know," he said lightly, "the obvious really, that you’ll never go near coke again.”

Loras’ eyes flickered closed, his hands tightening on the blanket again. “Ren,” he murmured, “I can’t _promise_ you that. No more than I can promise myself that.”

Renly bit back a sigh, chewing on that piece of information. He’d have been lying if he’d said that was what he’d wanted to hear. He'd always assumed that that would be a promise that Loras would readily give nowadays. 

“I’ll tell you what I _can_ promise you,” Loras added when Renly was silent. “If I ever _do_ relapse, I’ll go back to rehab. Immediately. I won’t ever expect you to deal with me on your own again. That was unfair of me when I made you take me home from that hospital. You weren't equipped to deal with that. And you shouldn't have had to. You shouldn't have had to even if we'd been dating.”

“Okay,” Renly murmured. He’d have preferred the first promise, but he supposed Loras could only give what he could give.

“Anything else you’d like me to do? Stop doing?”

“Um yeah, if you could stop storming off. You used to do that often.”

Loras sighed, staring out of the window a little absent-mindedly at the passing clouds. “I mean, I suppose I could _try_ for you, but if I’m honest, you’re probably better off letting me go. I know what arguing with me is like. I can be impossible. It’s usually better just to let me go and calm down. I usually come back you know.”

“Not always,” Renly said lightly. He found himself plagued by bad memories as he said that, painful, difficult memories of waiting miserably and futilely for someone to come home. He couldn't even remember how many days it had been before he'd given up waiting and accepted that he'd been walked out on. 

“Not always,” Loras agreed through gritted teeth.

Renly smiled. “Relax," he half-lied. "I’m teasing you. What about you then? Anything _I_ need to stop doing?” He tried not to grimace as he said that. He wondered if Loras was about to pull a very long list out of his sleeve. 

“Yes,” Loras said bluntly, eyes narrowed slightly like a cat's. “I want you to talk to me about stuff before you talk to your friends.” He pushed his curls out of his eyes. “If you talk to me about something and I’m a massive dick about it _then_ you can moan to your friends.”

Renly chuckled a little sheepishly. It was his turn now to fidget rather awkwardly with the blanket they'd curled up underneath. “Sure,” he said. “But only if you agree not to bite my head off when I bring stuff up.”

Loras frowned, pausing for a split-second. “Am I really that scary?” he asked eventually. Beneath his characteristic haughtiness he sounded a little crestfallen, a little disappointed that the people he was close to evidently still thought of him in that way.

“Um yeah,” Renly laughed. “You can be.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Well yeah," he agreed, "but you said it yourself once. I’m a bit of a softie on the inside.”

Renly had to smirk. “But rather scary on the outside," he pointed out. 

Loras just snorted. “Whatever,” he said.

Renly smiled. “Hey,” he laughed, poking him in the side. “I love you really.”

“I know you do.” 

Renly grinned and slipped an arm back around him, pulling back towards him before Loras even had a chance to squirm away. “You always remember that okay? Even when I’m being an absolute idiot, try and remember that I usually have your best interests at heart.”

Loras was quiet at that but he did raise his eyes to Renly and there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Renly maintained the gaze. “And just one more thing, Loras,” he murmured.

“Yeah?”

A little tentatively, Renly ran a hand up Loras’ back, fingers flitting across bare skin when he reached his collar. “How much are you, um, _comfortable_ with?" he breathed. "I don't want to step out of line or upset you or anything.” 

Loras stiffened immediately. His face flushed a little pink and his haughty expression returned. “You mean now?” he asked stiffly. “Or generally?”

Renly wanted to wink and tell him that he meant _both_ but he knew that Loras needed him to be serious right now. “I meant generally,” he said quietly. “I do realise, Loras, that a lot of stuff has been said and done, stuff that shouldn’t have been said or done really, and that there might be, _you know_ , a few bumps in the road, that it might not come _naturally_ like it used to.”

Loras looked like he wanted the sofa to open up and swallow him. He gulped loudly. “Well how about we just take it as it comes,” he mumbled. "But perhaps a bit more slowly than the last time."

“Sure, Loras, sure,” Renly agreed hurriedly. He didn't want to think too much about that- he'd never been good at taking things 'slowly' after all. That word signified to him that there might be far too many nights of lying still whilst nursing a raging erection. As far as he was concerned, the four dates that it had taken them to have sex the last time round had been long enough of a torture. That thought left him feeling quite uneasy though and so he ruffled Loras' hair instead, determined not to decide that he couldn't cope before he'd even given anything a go. 

He turned to Loras with a cheerful expression that was only partially plastered on. “Let’s drop the awkward conversation now shall we?” he suggested. "I think I've had enough."

“Yes please.”

Renly had to laugh at his tone. "I know it was unpleasant," he admitted, “but check us, actually _talking_ about stuff.” He motioned to give Loras a high-five and had to grin properly when it was returned.


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note

I'm really sad to have to do this but unfortunately my finals aren't going to pass themselves. With that in mind, I really have to put this story and all my other works on on hiatus until I finish my exams which will be at the end of May. As much as I love Loras and Renly, even I don't think they're worth throwing four years of semi-studying aware for! ;)

Rest assured though that I have not abandoned this! I have a lot of the rest of this and Golden already written and once my exams are over, I will have zero responsibilities for at least a while and will be able to get back to updating as fast as I can!


	85. Chapter 85

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to get back into the swing of things! Let's get the ball slowly rolling again though. :D

15th May 2016

_Loras Tyrell just can’t seem to make up his mind: after months of us wondering will they or won’t they, Loras Tyrell ignites fresh speculation as he returns from a Swedish ski resort arm in arm with his ex-boyfriend._

16th May 2016

_We are never ever getting back together? Loras Tyrell eats his words after claiming in 2015 that there was “no chance of a reconciliation” for him and former lover Renly Baratheon. The supermodel was pictured yesterday cosying up to the London based lawyer as they returned from a spring ski break._

17th May 2016

_Loras Tyrell puts months of speculation to rest as he finally confirms that he is going back to ex-boyfriend and best friend Renly Baratheon. The pair have been seen out together multiple times over the past year, with rumours even circulating in January that the star had moved back into his ex’s flat._

17th May 2016

_The worst news since Zayn left 1D? Loras Tyrell breaks hearts worldwide as he confirms he is no longer single. The 23-year-old’s confession this morning has spurred girls to take to Twitter in their droves, many claiming that the news has left them devastated._

18th May 2016

_Loras Tyrell steps out in sunny Kent with an equally sunny smile following his admission yesterday that he and ex-boyfriend Renly Baratheon have rekindled their romance._

Sansa of course had collected every snippet written about him and Loras over the past three days and she duly presented them to Renly as soon as he came in the door to work, spread out across her desk as if she’d been constructing a shrine.

“Work has gone crazy,” she gushed.

Renly just smiled and took a seat at his desk. “Great,” he said. “How come?”

“Well you’re half a celebrity again.” She grinned down at him widely. “You’ve put the company on the celebrity map again.” She paused, her smile wavering just a little. “Heads-up though. That Ros woman from the second floor has been prowling around all morning.”

Renly made a face. He’d had hope in his brother managing to find a way to fire her but apparently Stannis still actually cared that he had his hands tied by employment law. If Renly had been in charge, he reckoned that he’d have found some roundabout way to make her redundant- even if it had involved giving her a very large pay off.

“And it’s been kind of cool on my shoots too,” Sansa continued, placing her hands on Renly’s shoulders and leaning a little against him. “I’ve been getting to tell literally _everyone_ that you’re one of my friends. It’s so cool.”

Renly had to roll his eyes. Exasperated as he was by her antics though, he couldn’t deny that what she said flattered his ego. “So my name’s that recognisable huh?”

“Well yes,” she gushed, “the internet has literally exploded!”

“Has it?” Renly asked dryly. “I wasn’t aware.”

Sansa apparently missed the sarcasm and she came round to perch on Renly’s desk. “Yes,” she said. “There’s been like thousands of articles about you and there’s this _gorgeous_ picture of the two of you together.”

Renly sat down and grinned. “Show me?”

Sansa duly took her phone out of her jacket pocket. It didn’t take her long to bring up the photo and she passed her phone to Renly so that he could take a look. The photo had evidently been taken just as they were leaving the hotel resort. There were mountains in the background and they were walking side by side along a snowy path. Loras had his sunglasses pushed back onto his head and he was looking up at Renly with a smile that could only be described as adoring.

“He does look rather sweet,” Renly admitted, having to smile himself. He could always tell when Loras was smiling and actually meant it because his dimples made an appearance.

“And here,” Sansa laughed, stealing her phone back and tapping away, “in honour of him looking so happy, Buzzfeed have made a list of 14 times Loras Tyrell smiled and it was adorable as fuck.”

Renly had to snort. “They could only find fourteen times huh? You’d have thought fifteen would have been more of a round number.”

“Yeah, apparently he’s brooding and sexy most of the time, and up there with Victoria Beckham on their list of celebs who rarely crack a smile. It’s a real rare delight apparently. Here, take a look.” She passed him her phone again.

Duly, Renly scrolled through the pictures, confronted once more with several that had himself in. Even out of the fourteen they’d selected, Renly reckoned that there were a good few where the smile was forced. It was barely noticeable, something to do perhaps with his eyes, but Renly liked to think himself an expert on Loras’ expressions.

“And you know what the most striking thing is about this list is?” Sansa asked.

“What?”

“Well in most of the pictures he’s with you.”

Renly had to smile himself at that, and indeed, scrolling back through the list, he could spot clues that gave his presence beside Loras away even where the photo was zoomed in on the star- the sleeve of his jacket for instance, or his hand entwined with Loras’ in the bottom left hand corner.

“They’ve really gone a bit crazy on the Loras posts actually,” Sansa laughed, taking back her phone. “There’s how to handle the fact that Loras Tyrell has a boyfriend again. That’s a step by step guide, you see. Very useful stuff in there. And 22 times Loras Tyrell killed it as a model.” She smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “and my personal favourite perhaps- Loras Tyrell really likes to lean against walls.”

Renly cocked his head, a bit baffled. “What’s that one?”

“What it says on the tin. Literally just pictures of him leaning against walls.”

“Ah Buzzfeed...” Renly had to sigh fondly. “To be fair though, I think he was leaning against a wall when I first met him. It’s definitely a good pose for him. He’s got the right kind of floppy hair for it. It sort of falls into his eyes so casually that you can convince yourself it was totally unintentional.”

Sansa smiled. “Is anything Loras does when it comes to looking gorgeous unintentional?”

“Probably not,” Renly admitted. Loras was a very calculated individual through and through really.

“So what’s he doing back home anyway?” Sansa asked, sliding off Renly’s desk and onto a chair of her own. “I thought you two would be soaking in each other’s sexiness now that you’ve presumably decided that it’s full steam ahead.”

Renly laughed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Two reasons actually. First, he left the dog with his parents and she needs to be collected. Second, he’s actually sitting his GCSEs in English and Maths today.”

Sansa raised her eyebrow. “He actually went through with that, did he?”

“Yep.” Renly laughed. “I mean, I have no idea how _well_ he’ll do. Fractions isn’t exactly his strongest suit... But he did go through with it.”

Sansa just smiled and moved her chair a little closer. “This is very interesting and all but can we get on to the good stuff now? What did the two of you agree?”

Renly took a moment before answering, wondering how best to summarise. “Well it’s definitely not _full steam ahead_ as you like to think,” he laughed. ”We agreed that we’ll give it ago and that we’ll take it slow basically. And that I have to moan to him before I moan to you guys about stuff.”

Sansa laughed at that and had the grace to turn a tiny bit pink. “Sounds promising,” she said. She paused contemplatively then, before leaning in and placing a hand on Renly’s arm. “And you know what, despite everything I’ve said in the past, I reckon everything’s going to be okay.”

Renly smiled. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You’re right. It _is_ going to be okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s not going to be okay,” Renly told her a fortnight later with half a laugh.

Sansa raised an eyebrow. “Why on earth not? You’ve seemed really positive the other week.”

Renly ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah well that was before I realised quite how slow Loras meant. I feel like I’m back at school. His parents might as well chaperone us on our dates. It’s not like there would be anything inappropriate for them to witness.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be talking about this sort of stuff with me anonym-”

Renly cut her off. “No,” he corrected with a glorious smirk, “the rule was that I had to talk to him _first_.” He wanted to be clear on that.

Sansa’s eyebrow arched a little more. “And have you? Talked to him first I mean?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he said adamantly. “Course I have. I’m not brave enough to incur Loras’ wrath without good reason. He can be pretty terrifying when he’s pissed off.”

“And what did he say?”

“Just to quit my whining.”

Sansa laughed. “Well how did you put it?” she asked, taking a long sip from her coffee. “Was it just an offhand comment or a serious conversation?”

Renly shrugged. “An offhand comment that we both knew was vaguely serious, I suppose. I just told him yesterday that I really wanted him to stay over.” He made a face. “There might have been a bit of begging too if I remember correctly.”

“It’s been a fortnight, Renly. That’s hardly _that_ long a time?”

“Yeah well how would you feel if you and Sandor split up and then got back together and you weren’t allowed to sleep with him? Or even do anything with them that involves clothes coming off. ”

“I guess it would be weird. But me and Sandor have been dating for like two and half years. You and Loras dated for six months, and then had what sounds like the most awkward one night stand of the century.”

Renly had to laugh. “I guess,” he admitted. He’d been hoping for a little more sympathy. “Well we’re going for lunch today so I can moan to him some more, I guess.”

Sansa smiled. “Where you going?”

“McDonalds.”

Sansa looked disgusted. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Loras has spent the last decade on a diet. Now I get to show him the fun, unhealthy side of life. We’re starting at the bottom and working through the really trashy fast food and then we’ll work up to the more gourmet stuff that will still send your cholesterol through the roof.”

“And you’ve chosen McDonald’s as your starting place?” She looked rather bemused but also a little envious perhaps. She after all was always on a diet too nowadays.

“Yep,” Renly said with a smile.

“May I ask why?”

“Well it’s the obvious choice, Sansa. He’s never even had a Big Mac. That’s like a rite of passage. How can you reach twenty-three and not have had a Big Mac? Even Stannis used to consent to take me _occasionally_ as a child.”

Sansa just sighed. “You’re so lucky that Loras is crazy about you.”

Renly just grinned and booted up his desktop to start the morning’s work.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras was already sat down at one of the tables when Renly arrived. The décor was far from the gaudy red and yellow that McDonalds had been so fond of a decade or so ago but he still looked rather out of place here. He smiled though at Renly when he saw him.

“You managed to get a table at lunchtime?” Renly asked, sitting down opposite him. “That’s a skill indeed.”

Loras shrugged. “I can be very competitive.” He shot Renly a smirk over the table. “I have to admit, I rather enjoyed it. There was this man trying to get a table at the same time as me and I definitely psyched him out.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “He didn’t recognise you?”

“No he did eventually. That’s when he backed off and I swooped in and got the table.”

He looked rather proud of himself and Renly had to smile. Some people would be above using their celebrity status to get what they wanted but Loras clearly wasn’t. It was then though that he noticed that Loras already had a paper bag on a tray and he forgot completely about reprimanding him. “What did you get me?” he grinned.

“The double quarter pounder with cheese.”

“How did you know that I’d want that?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Because you told me you were going to have it yesterday.” He paused. “And even if you hadn’t, it’s the largest and most unhealthy thing on the menu. Right up your street.”

“Amen to that.” Renly grinned and reached for the packets of salt.

Loras looked a little bit alarmed that Renly was making what was an already very unhealthy meal unhealthy but he let it slide. “So how’s your afternoon been?” he asked lightly.

“Fine,” Renly told him, too busy filling his mouth with chips to form a proper reply.

Loras nodded knowingly. “Spent it moaning to Sansa?”

Renly paused and swallowed. “Just a little bit,” he admitted. “Though we did talk about her upcoming birthday party too.”

“Mainly me and my frustrating ways though?”

Renly shrugged, managing half a smile.

Loras had to laugh. That didn’t stop him rolling his eyes though. “Whatever,” he said rather bluntly. “Moan all you like. I rather enjoy winding you up.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” Loras admitted. “I do.”

Annoyingly, Renly didn’t doubt him.


	86. Chapter 86

The morning of Sansa’s birthday dawned hot and sticky. It was unusually humid for early June and all day Renly found himself wishing that he was allowed to wear shorts to work. It wasn’t at all fair, he thought. Women were allowed to roll up to the office in dresses with bare legs whilst the men on the other hand had to suffer through the day in a suit and tie. Loras, he knew, would not share this opinion. As far as Loras was concerned, shorts were only acceptable if you were within one hundred yards of a pool or a beach- an opinion that it was easy for him to have considering that he’d never had to take the tube to work.

Renly was glad when the clock chimed six and he could escape the hot glass building. He was even gladder for the fact that Loras’ flat was within walking distance. He thought he’d have rather walked across hot coals or gone voluntarily to Stannis’ for dinner than brave the tube at rush hour in this heat. And besides, this way he would have the opportunity to persuade Loras into actually coming tonight.

Loras was sitting by the window waiting for him when Renly arrived, the dog on his lap. He got to his feet with a smile when he saw Renly coming down the road.

His cheerful expression wavered, however, when he opened the door and he eyed Renly’s large bag warily as he ushered him into the hall.

“You planning on staying the night or something?” he asked. “You didn’t say.”

“Nah,” Renly laughed, knowing better than to spring that upon him nowadays. “This is all just clothes for this evening. It’s Sansa’s party tonight, remember? You’re coming too.”

Loras’ eyes narrowed. “I am not.”

“Come on,” Renly implored, crouching down to stroke the dog. “She invited you and it would be rude if you didn’t show.”

Loras just made a face. He didn’t need to say anything to let Renly know exactly what he thought of that.

“ _Please?_ ”

“I don’t want to come.”

Renly sighed. “For me then? I mean, these last few weeks have been difficult for me, lots and lots of compromising on my part. The least you can do is come with me to an event I absolutely _have_ to go to.”

Though his expression didn’t soften, Loras pulled out his phone. Renly knew it immediately to be a sign of defeat. And soon enough, he’d walked into the kitchen and Renly could hear him talking to one of the assistants at his management. He didn’t need to listen to know what Loras was talking to her about. As was usual when they went out nowadays, somebody had to come and sit with the dog. Supermodels could apparently afford to be fussy about their pets and Loras was no different.

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa’s party had already got a little out of hand by the time that Renly and Loras arrived- or at least by Sansa’s standards. There seemed to be bottles of alcohol on every available surface and Sansa herself was looking very harassed as she ushered out a rather loved up couple who appeared to be sharing a rather suspicious cigarette. On the other side of the room meanwhile, a large group of what seemed to be Gendry and Arya’s friends from the garage had struck up a rather rowdy game of beer pong dangerously close to the bookcase which housed many of Sansa’s china. They’d evidently come straight from work, for many of them were still in oil-stained jeans. Renly could only imagine Sansa’s horror when they’d turned up at the door and he was rather surprised that she hadn’t asked Sandor to turn them away.

By Loras’ standards though, this was probably all rather tame and he didn’t look particularly impressed as he stepped through the door. If anything, he looked distinctly bored.

Sansa came hurtling over as soon as she saw them, wobbling a little on very high heels- a sure sign that she was a little tipsy. “I thought you’d never come,” she gushed.

Renly gave her a hug. “Well we had to wait for the dog sitter you see.” He leant in close and dropped his voice so that Loras wouldn’t hear. “Someone is a’ little precious about their pets…. But anyway, Happy Birthday!”

Sansa beamed at him and then turned to Loras.

Crossing his fingers in his pocket, Renly was relieved to see that Loras greeted Sansa rather warmly. It was worlds away from his iciness towards her earlier and Renly could only be glad that he was good at lying through his teeth. He knew all too well that under the composed expression Loras was probably seething. He’d never forgiven her for her part in that list and Renly doubted now whether he ever would.

Sansa pulled Renly aside once she and Loras were done. “Do you think he’d mind if I introduced him to some of my model friends?” she whispered. “They’re all here tonight and I might have sort of mentioned that he might be coming…”

Renly laughed. “I’d let him well alone actually if I were you. You’re not in his good books.”

“I know that,” Sansa said lightly, fingers tightening on the stem of her champagne flute. “But there’s even a couple of people who are studying at that college he’s starting at in September. I could introduce them! You were saying the other day that he wanted to make some friends.”

Renly shrugged, wishing she’d keep her voice down. It seemed like a good idea on the surface but he knew better than to interfere. “I’d stay out of it personally,” he told her. “Let him do it on his own.”

Sansa looked disappointed but she nodded.

Renly nudged her. “Oh cheer up, won’t you. Loras isn’t the only person here. You’ve got a great turn out.”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “For once, I’ve even got all my siblings here. Well, all the ones that can legally drink anyway.”

There was pure unadulterated joy in her voice and yet Renly stiffened. “That means Jon’s here too then,” he said grimly. He did a quick sweep of the room. “Did he bring Satin?”

“No,” Sansa laughed. “I told him he could but I think relations are a little icy at the moment.” She inclined her head towards the corner of the room. Sansa’s brother Jon was standing there, accompanied by a girl. She had flaming red hair that was rather wild and Renly knew immediately who she was despite never having met her. She was the girl who got under even Satin’s skin- the boy who had it in him to see even Loras in a fair light.

Renly, however, couldn’t have been happier to see her and he turned to Sansa gleefully. “The girlfriend…” he whistled. “From what Satin used to tell me, those two are worse than Loras and me. I lose track.”

“You disappointed not to see him here?”

Renly chewed his bottom lip. “Nah,” he said. “It’s for the best. Loras and Satin really don’t get on...” That wasn’t the whole reason but it was over his dead body that he’d divulge the truth of the matter- even to Sansa to whom he told everything.

Indeed, Sansa was waiting expectantly for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she merely pushed a glass of champagne into his hands and drifted away to resume entertaining her guests.

Renly soon wished that she hadn’t left him. Sansa had clearly forbidden her friends from harassing _Loras_ but she hadn’t said anything about harassing him. Stood alone in the centre of the room, he might as well had a target painted on his back. Within minutes he found himself surrounded by tall, attractive women, all of whom wanted to know every single detail about his boyfriend down to what he ate for breakfast.

It was gone midnight by the time that Renly escaped from them, and breathing a sigh of relief, he made his way through to the kitchen where he’d spotted some people from work earlier. He was glad to find that they were still there, all sat around the big wooden table that was the centrepiece of Sansa and Arya’s kitchen. He was less glad to see that there was no sign of Loras.

He sat down all the same, pleased when Jeyne Poole shuffled up to make room for him between herself and Jaime.

“Anyone seen my plus one?” he asked. “Lost him a couple of hours ago.”

“Funnily enough, I have,” Jaime smirked. “We just had a chat out in the garden.”

“And?” Renly laughed. “How’d you find him?”

Jaime took a sip from his whiskey. “I have to say I’m impressed. Sarky bastard, isn’t he? This one girl- that blonde one who’s vomiting into the sink over there actually- well, she kept asking him what she had to do to be famous. On and on she went and eventually he told her that it would help if she were prettier.”

Renly snorted. “Mm,” he said, failing to supress a smile. “Well if you get Loras in a bad mood, he’s about as polite as your sister. A pity really, because when he’s in a good mood, he’s rather lovely, chivalrous even. If always a little vain.”

His co-ordination a little off, Jaime poured a second glass of whiskey and pushed it into Renly’s hand. “You know who he reminds me of?”

Renly didn’t think he’d like the answer to this question but he decided to humour him. “Who?”

“Me.”

Renly made a face. “ _You?_ I’ll admit it, he does have a fairly terrifying sister but that’s where the similarities end.” He paused. “And I suppose I’ll give you that you’re both a bit sarcastic. And vain. And that he was blond when I first met him.”

“So pretty similar then,” Jaime chided.

Renly just rolled his eyes and got to his feet, downing the glass of whiskey that Jaime had just poured him. Now that Jaime had told him where Loras was, he didn’t need to suffer through any more of his company. As Jaime had so delightfully pointed out, he had Loras around for the sarcastic comments.

Renly found him in the patch of weeds that qualified as a garden with one of his e-cigarettes. It had taken him a while to make the switch but it had been a good few weeks since Renly had seen him with a real cigarette now. He was pleased- surprised but pleased all the same.

“Hey,” Renly murmured, touching a hand to his shoulder. “Having a good time?”

“Sure,” Loras shrugged.

Sinking down onto a rather rickety bench, Renly patted the space beside him. When Loras sat down he put his arm around him, leaning his head against Loras’. After all the noise inside, it was nice to have a little peace and quiet. He imagined that Loras felt the same- that Loras had probably felt the same all evening actually. It was no secret that Loras would rather have not come at all.

Indeed, Loras started shifting restlessly next to him after only a few moments. “Want to go home soon?” he murmured.

Renly sat up a little straighter. “Home?” he clarified. “As in back to mine?”

He tried to hide the enthusiasm in his voice. It had been a few days since Loras had stayed at his and even then nothing more exciting had happened than him getting to sleep with his cock pushed up against Loras’ side. Somehow, Renly got the feeling that Loras was tentatively offering him something more tonight. He couldn’t even remember the last time Loras had offered to stay at his; over the last couple of weeks he'd had to be coaxed into it.

“Well, yeah,” Loras yawned. “Yours is much closer.”

He said it casually, as if it were purely a logical decision to go back to Renly’s based on their current location. Renly, however, wasn’t fooled. He knew all too well that Loras wouldn’t care one iota about having to spend an extra twenty minutes in a cab. He was used to crossing the Atlantic; crossing London wasn’t even a drop in the ocean compared to that.

“Sure,” Renly said with a grin. “We’ll make our excuses to Sansa and then she’ll hopefully let me leave.” He pulled Loras to his feet.

They only got as far as the kitchen, however, before Sansa was dragging him into the living room. She clearly had no intention of letting him go.

“I was looking for you,” she half-shouted over the music. “We’re playing a game and you _have_ to play!”

Sharing a glance with Loras, Renly made the decision to not even bother trying to make their excuses. It was her birthday today after all and that meant that she had to come first- regardless of the fact that Renly thought he might get to have sex for the first time in almost two months this evening.

“Well, what kind of game?” he asked, steadying Sansa as she walked. The heels had long come off and yet it wasn’t her shoes now that were making her wobbly.

“It’s Never Have I Ever,” Sansa giggled, her words running into one another slightly. “And you have to join in. You have so many great stories!”

Renly snorted, amused. He hadn’t played that game or anything like it since he’d been in university. He rather expected now that he was too old for it. All the same, he let Sansa lead him over to where a large group of people were sitting on the floor.

“Yeah so I’m going to sit out,” Loras mumbled from behind him.

Whipping round, Renly looked imploringly at him. “That’s not in the birthday spirit! And anyway, if I’m being dragged into this, so are you.”

Loras just raised an eyebrow. “If I play, Petyr Baelish will be sending over an article for me to comment on before we get home.”

Even Renly saw the logic of that and he patted Loras on the shoulder to concede that the matter was dropped, a little envious when he saw him sink into a low armchair near the door to watch.

He himself had to sit on the floor, and although Sansa’s group of friends readily made room for him, space was still a little cramped. Looking around the circle, Renly was even more disheartened to see that he didn’t recognise many of them anymore. Jaime and Jeyne had disappeared and it was mainly just the girls that Sansa had met through modelling and a few of Arya and Gendry’s garage friends. They certainly made an odd group though and Renly had to admit that the mix of chic girls and burly men was rather amusing.

It was a strange half an hour or so, and one that did indeed make Renly feel like he was back at school. It was all quite targeted though- everyone clearly knowing the dirt on everyone else- and Renly found that most of it revolved around the girls’ experiences modelling. Some of it at least was amusing. Several girls drank for falling down on a runway, one even for hurtling head-first into the audience. A tall brunette in a sequined dress meanwhile had been so hung-over on a shoot once that she’d vomited all over the bridal collection she’d been wearing while a girl with short spiky hair was mocked for having been mistaken for a man at a casting call. No less than three girls had apparently slept with a designer to book a job, four of them had sent nudes to their boss, and Renly was unsurprised to hear that the blonde girl who’d been sick in the sink earlier had resorted to doing porn on the side to pay her bills- something she seemed rather proud of.

Some of it, however, was merely disturbing and not amusing in the slightest. Several girls proudly drank for surviving on little more than a cube of cheese every day while a good couple admitted to taking drugs to supress their appetites. As much as he knew he ought not to, Renly couldn’t help glancing at Loras while all this was being said. He was unsurprised to see that Loras was staunchly ignoring it all, his attention on his phone. Renly was glad. Somehow, he didn’t think that Loras would find it particularly funny like most of the girls did.

All in all, hearing about their modelling exploits soon became tiring. Renly knew too much about the industry from dating Loras to find any of impressive, and he was soon glad for the friends that had lingered with Arya and Gendry. They had much more amusing stories. He got to hear about one poor lad who had got a Prince Albert which had then turned septic and then about a bloke who had once punched the mayor of London off his bike after he’d been called an oik.

Chortling despite himself, Renly made to take another sip of his drink. He had just drained it when the large thuggish man whose turn it was claimed that he’d never had sex on a sibling’s bed.

Sansa looked pointedly at Renly at that but Renly shook his head with a grin. Robert had certainly had sex on _his_ bed- when he’d come home too drunk to know which bedroom was his own or when he’d made a half-hearted attempt to hide his affairs from Cersei- but Renly had never gone near either of his brother’s bedrooms. He’d never had any desire to.

Sansa looked disappointed but her expression soon turned to horror when she saw that it was Arya who had raised her glass to drink.

“Not mine?” she hissed. “Surely not _mine?_ ”

Arya just smiled cattily- much to the amusement of her two brothers. Gendry too was grinning at Sansa with a twinkle in his eye. No doubt it had been him who had helped Arya defile Sansa’s lovely clean sheets.

Sansa soon matched her hair and if looks could kill, her sister would have been long dead. Birthday or not, Renly had to laugh at her. He could only imagine how horrified she was to hear that Arya and Gendry had gone anywhere near her bedroom with their oil-stained clothing and bodily fluids.

Renly regretted laughing instantly though when Sansa turned her glare on him. She evidently wasn’t best pleased about him laughing at her misfortune and as she clearly had nothing on her sister she rounded on him next.

Soon Renly had been shamed with all sorts of offences: having a threesome, sleeping with someone within one hour of meeting them, forgetting someone’s name during the act, dating a prostitute… He admitted most of them freely; there were very few things he regretted after all and he’d even rather enjoyed seeing Jon’s face flush as red as his girlfriend’s hair when Satin had been brought up. It was only when Arya accused him of sleeping with so many people that he’d lost count that he thought he ought to defend himself.

“Well I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” he protested, laughing despite himself.

“Ha.” Sansa was smirking at him. “Well go on then, count. We’ll wait.”

Renly sighed. “How many people have I had sex with? Is that the question?”

“Yep.”

Renly allowed himself a smirk. “Well, how are we _defining_ sex?”

Sansa opened her mouth to reply but Arya got there first. “What does it matter,” he snorted. “You wouldn’t be able to count regardless of how we defined it.”

Duly, Renly started counting. The first was easy. That lucky boy had been a classmate at school. The next two were easy enough too; they’d both been boyfriends, albeit for only a short amount of time. It was only when he got into his first year at university that it got a little trickier. He’d doubled his number by the time he’d recalled everything that had happened in Fresher’s Week, and his memory of who he’d slept with over the following three years was patchy at best; he could only remember that there had been a lot.

“Yeah alright then,” he laughed, feeling he may as well stop there. “Guilty as charged. More than Princess Diana but less than Madonna. Hopefully,” he added.

Previously Loras had given no indication that he was listening but now he stiffened slightly in his chair. He was clearly listening to every word and he was clearly uncomfortable.

Biting back a sigh, Renly murmured his excuses to Sansa and stood up to take him home.

 

* * *

 

 

“You okay?” Renly asked him when they were in the cab.

“Fine.”

Renly nodded knowingly. “Feeling left out?”

Loras shrugged next to him, rolling down the window out of habit even though that wasn’t necessary with an e-cigarette. “Not particularly.”

He sounded okay and Renly chanced a smile. “Well I for one wish you’d been able to play. Not going to lie, there’s a lot of questions I’d have loved to hear your answer to.”

Loras shrugged again- more curtly this time. “Well, I’ll save you the bother, shall I?” he said grimly. “I’ve never had slept with someone to get a job, I’ve stayed away from threesomes and from taking nudes. I went home with that DJ within one hour of meeting him but I’ve never forgotten someone’s name.” He narrowed his eyes almost venomously. “And I can count.”

Renly laughed nervously, disconcerted by Loras’ tone. “Alright, no need to sound so vindictive.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I hate these sorts of games anyway. They’re rather juvenile.”

Loras looked visibly annoyed. “Don’t lie,” he muttered. “You loved it. Everyone thinking you’re such a stud, such a _lad_. You loved every moment of it.”

Renly had to grin. “You’ve got me,” he admitted. “But you won’t judge me for it, will you?”

Loras snorted. “No,” he said. “I already knew that about you.” And with that, he leant forward to speak to the taxi driver.

Renly’s heart sank as he heard him giving instructions to take him back to Shoreditch after they’d reached Renly’s house. Loras had apparently changed his mind about staying over.


	87. Chapter 87

“Hey Renly,” Gendry’s voice called. “Over here.”

Renly craned round to see him. That was the problem with this car; it was too low to the ground to get a decent view of anything, especially someone as tall as Gendry. Guided by his voice though, he spotted him on the corner of the large industrial estate he’d been driving around for the last ten minutes. Arya had warned him that the garage was hard to find and she’d been quite right. It was like a maze in here.

He was surprised to see how cheerful Gendry was looking. It was a good couple of days now since Sansa’s party but Renly was well aware that both he and his girlfriend were still in disgrace. Sansa was barely talking to either of them and from what he’d heard she’d even bolted them out one night and forced them to sleep on the floor of the garage.

And from what he was seeing of that garage now, Renly had to feel sorry for them. Gendry was beckoning him through the doors now and the floor looked cold, hard and dirty. Even Loras hadn’t been that pissed off at him after their little disagreement. Yes, he’d withdrawn his offer to stay over that evening but his sulking hadn’t lasted longer than a morning or so. Sansa’s was apparently going to last weeks.

He was properly inside the garage now and Renly had to smile as he saw the men working inside stop what they were doing to watch. They clearly knew a good car when they saw one.

“Nice ride,” one of them whistled as Renly parked up at the very end of the garage.

Renly grinned at him. “Thanks.”

“Sure he looks like you, but that surely ain’t no relation of yours, Gendry,” another of them laughed. “That beauty he’s driving’s like two hundred grand new and you can’t even afford to fix your bloody brake lights.”

“Or buy your girlfriend a birthday present,” a loud voice clearly recognizable as Arya’s called from under a Ford Focus that was being dismantled by the door.

Gendry just chuckled, crossing his muscular arms across his equally muscular chest. “Yeah whatever.” He gestured over to Renly. “But he didn’t even buy it, you know. The fucker got it for free.”

“For free?!”

Renly snorted. “Yeah well I can tell you now that the insurance on this thing isn’t _free_.”

They laughed and several of them nodded knowingly. Rough as most of them were, Renly imagined they saw enough very expensive cars that had been written off in here to know what insuring one of them cost.

“Just out of interest, how much?” Gendry asked.

Renly grimaced. “Don’t ask. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Opening the door, he got out and stretched. However lovely the car Loras had gifted him over two years ago was, it didn’t have a ridiculous amount of leg room for a man like him.

“Yeah and check this,” Gendry was saying to his mates, all of whom had inched closer to get a better look. “He got it before it was even released. That’s a promotional model, that one. He was driving it around before they’d even stopped production on the Garllardo.”

“You’re shitting us.”

“Nah. He’s dating that famous model. That Loras Tyrell.”

“The bloke?”

“Yeah. That one who dated Taylor Swift. Apparently he swings both ways.”

“Yeah I know the one. My girlfriend wants his hair.”

“So does my girlfriend’s sister. But anyway, he got it for free- so that he could promote it or something- and then this one here got it as a present.”

Renly tried not to let on that he was listening and busied himself instead with locking the car. When he turned back around, Gendry was stroking the body of the car lovingly. He’d always maintained that he didn’t care for flashy cars but he clearly did.

Renly chucked him the keys. “Here you go then. Enjoy her.”

All of Gendry’s friends quickly gathered round, several of whom Renly recognized from Sansa’s party. “You borrowing it for the day?” one of them asked.

“Nope,” Gendry said with a grin. “We’re swapping for a few _weeks_.”

The guy nearest to Gendry snorted, clearly refusing to believe that. “What the fuck?” he snorted. “He’s swapping _that_ for your old banger?” Inching closer, he put a rather hairy hand on the shiny paintwork, caressing it gently. Renly rather suspected that this was how he touched any girlfriend he had.

“Nah not my truck, or my motorbike. Arya’s Panda.”

“What the hell does he want with Arya’s Panda? That thing can barely push seventy.”

Gendry laughed gleefully- a sound that didn’t particularly suit him. “Don’t matter. We’re swapping ‘cause he’s teaching a learner. They can’t go on motorways.”

The man looked at the Lamborghini in front of him. “Yeah,” he conceded bluntly. “I can see why you wouldn’t wanna teach a learner in that… This baby must do over two hundred miles an hour.”

“Apparently,” Renly agreed. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never pushed her past ninety.”

Gendry shared a look with his friend. “I know,” he muttered. “Talk about a god damn waste. She can go from zero to sixty in under three seconds and he’s never even put her past a hundred...”

Renly rolled his eyes. Whilst he adored how flashy the car was, he knew he didn’t get as much out of it as he should. He was well aware that most of its specs were wasted on him.

“Well feel free to do it for me while you’re borrowing her.”

“Sure thing,” Gendry told him. “Arya’s borrowed some money off her brother and we’re gonna book out a track on one of those old airfields for an hour. It’s a bloody brilliant car. Should be pretty decent.”

Renly just smiled. “Yep. Very decent. But pretty unsuitable for a learner. I’m not sure anyone would even insure me for that.”

“No mainstream insurer,” Gendry agreed. “But I bet Loras could have pulled some strings, paid through the nose. Might have got third party only if he’d really tried.”

“Maybe,” Renly admitted. “But it’s irrelevant. I put my foot down.”

“What he _actually_ wanted to learn in that?”

Renly grimaced. “Would you believe it…”

“And you told him no? That’s brave of you. From what Sansa tells me, he’s got a proper temper.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Course I told him no. It’s an automatic for one. No point learning in an automatic.”

“Yeah but even if it weren’t….”

“Well yeah,” Renly agreed. “Which is what I told him. He’d probably kill himself if he tried to learn in this. Me as well. And I’m apprehensive enough as it is about getting into a car with him. He’s going to be a bloody maniac behind the wheel.”

Gendry grinned. “Trust me, it’s hard to be a maniac in a Fiat Panda, especially the first generation one. Like Gaz said, you really have to put your foot down to get it to move. Good for learners though. Only thing I’d say is be really strict with making him use a lower gear up hills. Engine really struggles otherwise.”

“Got it,” Renly said. He leant back against the car he was giving up for a few weeks. “You know, I’m actually looking forward to driving a normal car again. I’ve forgotten what it’s like.”

Gendry just shook his head in disbelief. “I guess I can understand why you’d miss a manual but seriously, you’re getting excited over Arya’s Panda?”

Renly grinned. “Trust me,” he said. “It’s going to be great not having to raise the bloody suspension every time I go over a speed bump. It gets tiring having to plan routes around them.” He chucked Gendry his car keys. “So unless this Panda can’t get over speed bumps, give it here.”

“Sure thing. It’s parked out back.” He beckoned Renly to follow him.

They were just through the doorway when a shout called them back. Turning round, Renly saw a dirty little girl sliding out from underneath the jacked up Ford Focus, her face grimy with oil and dust.

“Oi,” Arya shouted. “Renly! If that loco boyfriend of yours crashes my Panda, you’ll have me to answer to. That thing’s older than he is. So show it some respect.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “As you wish, Arya.”

Arya crossed the garage to join them. “So,” she said, “what’s made your boyfriend want to learn to drive?”

“Well he’s starting at this fashion college in September and he’s suddenly decided it’d be nice to be able to get himself to and from it without taking a cab. Not sure whether I agree… Personally I think driving in central London is a massive pain in the arse but it’s his decision.”

Arya shrugged. She clearly liked cars too much to think that driving was ever a pain in the arse. “So, what, he wants to learn before he starts?”

Renly nodded. He got the feeling that Loras was trying to make a bit of a new start come September. He’d given up smoking, he’d decided to learn to drive and hopefully he’d even have a couple of GCSEs under his belt by the time that term started.

“That’s not too long,” Gendry cut in. “You’ve got like what, a few months?”

“Well he’s starting in mid-September so more like three months and a half. Still tight though, considering he’s got literally no experience and he's going to be one hell of a reckless driver.”

Arya shrugged. “He can probably pay the examiner to not fail him or something.”

Renly just rolled his eyes. They’d reached Arya’s car now and he stopped to have a good look. Like the car he’d just handed over, Arya’s car was red but that was where the similarities ended. The paintwork was peeling on one side and the bumper looked like it had been bumped more than a couple of times. Knowing Arya though, it was probably in perfect working condition despite its shabby appearance.

Arya reached deep into her jeans pocket to retrieve the keys. “So,” she said, handing them over. “You’ve agreed not to wreck my car. What about yours? Anything we’re not allowed to do?”

“Yeah,” Renly said. “Whatever you do, don’t let Sansa drive it. She drives in heels and that’s downright dangerous in most cars, let alone mine.”

Arya snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about that. She doesn’t even have insurance anymore. Sandor takes her everywhere nowadays. He’s proper whipped.”

“Which is for the best,” Renly agreed with a laugh. “Because I let her drive me somewhere years ago- back when she’d just started as my assistant- and I still have nightmares about it.”

Ten minutes later, as he drove out of the garage in Arya’s car, he wondered whether he’d soon be having nightmares about Loras’ driving too.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had not been wrong to fear getting into a car with Loras. It wasn’t that he was a poor driver- he actually picked everything up remarkably quickly. It was rather that he seemed to have no sense of danger. It had been fine when they’d been learning the very basics. Very little could go wrong when you were driving round an empty car park very slowly and learning how to use the gears.

Now that they were on the road though, it was another matter. Renly wasn’t quite gripping his seat but there were times when he was tempted. Regardless of what he told him, Loras went too fast, didn’t leave enough space behind the vehicle in front of him and insisted on overtaking cars that were already going at the speed limit themselves. All in all, he was exemplary of why insurance companies hiked up premiums for young men.

Even now as they climbed a very steep hill- something which the Fiat Panda allegedly struggled with- Loras’ driving was alarming him. His palms were sweating and Renly knew that had little to do with the sweltering evening or the lack of air conditioning and everything to do with how close they were getting to the parked cars at the side of the road.

“Slow down, won’t you,” Renly told him for the fifth time since they’d been on that road, a little despairingly this time. It was only a matter of time before they took some poor sod’s wing mirror off.

Loras merely laughed. “Keep your hair on. I’m going at the speed limit.” He glanced sideways at Renly as if daring him to challenge him.

“Well look at the bloody road at least!”

He saw Loras rolling his eyes.

“And yes,” Renly said lightly, wiping the sweat off his brow and wishing he could get out of this overheated car already. “You are going at the speed limit, but there are parked cars either side. You should be going at twenty in case you meet something. Twenty-five _max_.”

“ _Fine_.” Loras slowed down a very little.

Renly only relaxed briefly. Moments later his stomach lurched to see another car come over the brow of the hill ahead. This was exactly why you didn’t take roads like this fast. “Now pull in here,” he instructed Loras, pointing to a rare gap between the parked cars. “There isn’t space for you both here.”

“Rubbish,” Loras snorted. “There’s plenty.”

Without wasting any time, he ignored what Renly had just said and began to pull past the car opposite. Renly found himself breathing in as if that would make the car narrower and was rather surprised to see that they made it with less than half an inch to spare either side.

“Okay so you _just about_ had space,” Renly muttered reluctantly. It was highly irritating; Loras’ spatial awareness was clearly better than his own despite the fact that he’d only been in a car a couple of times now. Safety aside, he’d taken to driving like a duck to water.

“So where we going now then?” Loras asked as the next junction became visible.

“We’ll go straight across,” Renly told him, thinking they should head back in the direction of Loras’ flat now. “It’s a mini roundabout though. You know the rules for them?”

“Nope,” Loras said cheerfully. Unfazed though, he hurtled up the road towards the junction all the same, one hand even off the steering wheel to roll the window down further and let more air in.

“Well brake then,” Renly almost yelped as he realised Loras had no intention of stopping. “You can’t see whether you’ll have to give way or not.”

Loras obeyed with a sigh, coming to a reluctant stop at the dotted line. It was lucky he had as there was a lot of traffic. “What even is a mini roundabout?” he asked.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Renly chuckled. “A small roundabout. You have to give way to the right unless they’re turning left, and anyone opposite you who’s turning right. Basically anyone who’ll be passing in front of you. ”

Loras nodded and leant forward to monitor the constant stream of traffic coming from the right. Sighing, Renly put the handbrake on for him. Loras- impatient as he was- virtually refused to use the handbrake at all, preferring to wait poised, the clutch at the biting point, ready to move off at a moment’s notice. Here though, Renly thought that was poor policy. They were on a very steep hill, there was a lot of traffic and they’d probably be sitting there for a fair time. If he’d been driving, he’d probably have even taken it out of gear so that he could take his feet off all the pedals. He was lazy like that.

Loras, however, was less than impressed. “What you interfering for?” he mumbled. “I had my foot on the brake. I’m not going to roll backwards.”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m trying to help you,” he insisted. “Starts are difficult on a hill as steep as this one. You’ll most likely stall if you don’t use the handbrake.”

“I wasn’t going to stall.”

Renly glanced in the rearview mirror. There was nothing behind them. “Sure then,” he said. “Do it your way. But don’t come crying to me when you stall.” Waiting until Loras had put his foot back on the brake, he released the handbrake.

A small gap had appeared in the stream of traffic now and Loras grinned. He was clearly intending to move off.

Renly had to resist the urge to yank him back by his collar. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “Not big enough.”

Loras glared at him. “It was big enough.”

“Only if you speed across and that’s downright dangerous.”

Loras shrugged. He didn’t seem fazed by the suggestion that what he’d been attempting to do was dangerous.

It was only when the set of traffic lights further down the road to the right changed that they got a big enough gap. Loras didn’t waste any time and moved off immediately- very smoothly to Renly’s immense annoyance.

“See,” Loras said smugly as soon as they were over the mini roundabout. “Look who didn’t stall.”

Renly had to shake his head fondly. “Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll give it to you. You’ve got great clutch control. Still would have been easier to use the handbrake though. Stops your feet getting too tired if nothing else.”

“My feet don’t get tired. I used to walk for a living.”

Renly snorted with laughed. “Yeah, up _catwalks,_ ” he pointed out. “You weren’t exactly walking bloody marathons.”

Loras staunchly ignored him and put his foot down, probably just to irritate Renly this time. It worked well and Renly had to wince as they tore perilously past a car coming the other way.

“Alright,” Renly said. “Take the next left. We’ll take you home now, I think.”

“Already?”

“Yep. I’m so hot I think I might spontaneously combust.” He ran a hand wearily through his hair, unsurprised to find it a little damp. “And I think I need a lie down…”

Loras rolled his eyes but obeyed without a fuss, taking the corner nicely for once and coming to a nice smooth stop outside his flat. “Am I really that terrifying to be in a car with?” he asked, flipping the sun visor up and taking the keys out.

Renly laughed and made to get out too. “Well you’re a little reckless,” he admitted. “I could definitely do with a stiff drink or two right now.”

Loras looked up from unlocking his flat door. “You’ve come to the wrong place then,” he pointed out. “I don’t have anything stronger than chocolate liqueurs in here. Not unless you want to chug mouthwash.”

“I think I’ll pass…”

It was a relief to get out of the evening sun and walk into the cool living room. For once, Loras had left Ophelia alone for a couple of hours and she looked rather mournful as they came in. She was clearly sulking and didn’t even get off the sofa to greet them.

Loras sank down beside her regardless, stroking her long silky ears even though she was still giving him the cold shoulder. “You staying?” he asked Renly.

Renly fought his instinct to raise an eyebrow. “Am I allowed to?”

“I just invited you, didn’t I?” Despite his words though, Loras sounded a little hesitant. They hadn’t discussed staying over since they’d had words after Sansa’s party.

Renly was determined not to mess this one up and so he shrugged as casually as he could. “Sure then,” he said. “Why not. I’ve had a long day at work, spent several hours fearing for my life in a car without air-conditioning, and now I’d quite like to order pizza and eat it in bed. ”

Loras actually smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

Renly beamed at him. He hadn’t been expecting Loras to invite him to stay over tonight but it was a welcome surprise. He knew better than to get his hopes up though. Even in the very unlikely scenario of Loras being up for something tonight, there were still practicalities to be considered. Loras probably wouldn’t have either condoms or lube in the flat and Renly imagined that their first foray back into sex would be awkward enough without him disappearing halfway through their foreplay to sprint to the shop and buy essentials.

Still, the invitation represented Loras allowing him to get at least a little close to him and Renly really wasn’t in any position to turn any kind of intimacy down- even if it was a quick cuddle in bed and nothing more. It was with a smile on his face thus that Renly ordered a take-away off his phone and followed Loras through to his bedroom.

It was surprisingly rare that Renly got to spend any real time in Loras’ bedroom and he couldn’t help looking around curiously as he collapsed onto the bed. It was surprisingly tidy for Loras but there was still a large pile of clothes over a chair by the window and scraps of fabric scattered over a section of the floor- no doubt the beginnings of another blouse or skirt for Margaery. His medication was by his bedside too and Renly thought it testament to the fact that Loras trusted him that he didn’t immediately sweep it into some drawer to be hidden from sight.

Loras must have perhaps appreciated that he’d terrified Renly earlier out driving because he let Renly stay lounged on his bed when the pizza arrived, going to answer the door himself- something which he did but rarely when it wasn’t Renly or Margaery to see him. He even brought plates and drinks through from the kitchen, remembering to put a slice of lemon and a lot of ice in Renly’s coke and everything- a good thing too seeing as Loras’ bedroom faced due west.

By the time they’d finished eating though, the sun was thankfully beginning to set. It was still too hot to be under the covers though and so they stayed on top of them, sprawled across the bed with the windows flung wide open to coax in a non-existent breeze.

“Bet you wouldn’t be so condescending towards shorts now eh?” Renly smiled, eyeing Loras’ jeans and wondering if he was hot in them. He at least was still in his trousers from work which were a little cooler.

Loras shrugged. “I still hold to my opinion. Beaches and swimming pools only.”

“Well you’ve never had to travel at rush hour. It gets up to like forty degrees underground.”

Loras looked at him a little scathingly. “Don’t talk to me about heat. I’ve done August shows in New York, showing _autumn_ clothes. Used to be unbearable. Did one in New Orleans once. Thought I was going to die.”

“Then you shouldn’t be so harsh on shorts then,” Renly told him with a grin, fanning himself with a magazine that he’d found on Loras’ bedside table. If he’d had a pair of shorts handy, he’d have shoved them on just to make his point. As it was though, he had no spare clothes to speak of whatsoever and so he merely peeled off his shirt and kicked off his trousers, hoping that that would make the heat bearable.

“God that’s better,” he sighed, rolling over onto his front and stretching out. He had to wonder what the hell London had done to deserve this sort of weather in June.

Loras laughed. “Yeah,” he said, looking Renly up and down. “It is.”

Renly grinned lazily at him and stretched out a little more, knowing exactly how that made the muscles in his back look. “You can touch too, you know,” he yawned. Eyes half closed, he reached out and took Loras’ hand, placing it on his shoulder.

Loras said nothing but took the hint, moving a little closer so that he could rub Renly’s shoulders properly.

Renly found himself quickly relaxing under his touch. Sure, he’d have rather have been on his back with Loras’ hands elsewhere but he supposed that intimacy on any level was good. With that in mind, he did his best not to let his mind wander, knowing that if he did, he’d soon be rolling over and coaxing Loras’ hands down his boxers like some kind of desperate schoolboy. Renly didn’t reckon that that would go down very well and he imagined that Loras would stop touching him altogether if Renly taught him that physical contact of any kind made him expect sex.

It wasn’t actually that difficult though to keep his mind on innocent things; with the sun on his face and Loras’ hands on his back, he found himself quickly becoming drowsy. Indeed, he must have dozed, for when he next opened his eyes the sun was much lower in the sky and Loras had joined him in kicking off most of his clothes.

Yawning, Renly shifted closer to him. Loras still had his shirt on but he had unbuttoned it and Renly managed to get bare skin when he rested his head against Loras’ shoulder. Drowsy as he was, he kept his eyes half open so that he could make the most of the rarity that was Loras taking any of his clothes off nowadays. Usually he even changed out of sight.

Determined to make the most of this rarity, Renly trailed a hand across his chest, liking how the sun played across his skin. Once upon a time, he’d have been able to touch freely without worrying how Loras would take it but nowadays he had to be a little careful. All the same though, Renly was grateful. Loras’ skin was soft and silky and he certainly had no complaints.

“You know,” he yawned, “sometimes I think you’re just perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

Renly smiled sleepily against his shoulder, reaching up to twirl a curl round his finger. “Well, you’re literally flawless,” he mumbled.

Loras made a small, soft noise in the back of his throat. “I’m not, you know.”

“Mmm. How so?”

Yawning too, Loras stretched out his arm, the fingers of the other hand coming up to brush the crease of his elbow. It was easy to see what he was referring to; even in the dying light, the tiny scars from old needles were visible.

“Won’t they go away eventually?” Renly murmured, reaching out to touch. “Not that it really matters.”

Loras shrugged. “They might. But track marks can last for years. Sometimes they don’t ever go away.”

Renly smiled sleepily. “Doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “Still lovely.”

“They’re good reminders, I suppose,” Loras conceded quietly, to himself more than anything.

Renly wrapped his arms around him. “Mmm,” he hummed. He was back asleep in moments.


	88. Chapter 88

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive apology to make in this chapter. Unfortunately, as Anna so perceptively pointed out last chapter, I forgot Loras' birthday!! In order to fix that, I've reduced the gaps between the last couple of chapters significantly. Nothing much should have changed other than London being unseasonably hot for June and Loras having much longer to learn how to drive before September... But super sorry about that! It's what happens when you're careless!

Renly woke up feeling more contented than he’d been in a long time. The bedroom was still blissfully dark and the fact that he was in Loras’ bed was not lost on him. Whilst Loras had reluctantly stayed at his a couple of times in the last month, this was the first time that he’d actually invited Renly into his own bedroom.

It was an invitation that made Renly’s heart soar, and smiling to himself at his good fortune, he stretched out, pleased to find that Loras’ bed was just about long enough for him to do that properly. The average bed was so often six foot three- and not quite long enough for him to lie flat. This one, however, must have been a queen size bed at six foot six and Renly reckoned that he could really get used to sleeping in it. Especially if his company for the night decided to be a little more obliging once in a while.

Opening his eyes, he looked to see if that company was still beside him and was pleased to find that he could just about make out Loras’ blurry shape next to him- slightly darker than the surrounding room. He was sat up in bed though and looked like he was probably already fully dressed. All the same, Renly reached out towards him, fingers closing on a slender wrist.

“What time is it?” he yawned.

Loras entwined his fingers with Renly’s properly before he answered. “Ten to eleven,” he said.

Renly sat up in bed, cursing how thick Loras’ curtains must be. “*Ten to eleven? I was supposed to be at work two hours ago, Loras. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I did,” Loras said bluntly, flicking on a lamp by his bedside. “Twice. You told me to fuck off and let you sleep.”

“Ah...” Grimacing, Renly ran a hand through his hair, unsurprised to find it tousled and very messy from sleep. He had no memory of telling Loras any such thing but he could well believe it. He had a reputation for being hard to wake up.

“So I called your work and told them that you had food poisoning.”

Renly grinned, sinking back down into bed. Loras’ audacity made him smile and he’d have been lying if he said that he particularly cared about missing a day of work. “Who did you speak to?” he asked.

Loras flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Some whiny secretary who passed me on to someone more senior when I said I was ringing about you. He told me to tell you that you should make the most of being sick. Apparently you should lie in bed and watch some porn.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He knew immediately who Loras had spoken to. “My brother,” he explained with a sigh. “It’s unusual for him to be in this early actually. But you’re lucky it was him and not the other one. He’d have told you to force me in with a whip.”

Loras gave a small smile. “He sounds just lovely…” he muttered. “Will I ever meet them?”

“Not if I can help it,” Renly told him bluntly. Grimacing, he tried to imagine Loras meeting either of his brothers and had to cringe painfully at the thought. Stannis wouldn’t know who Loras was and Robert would probably harass him for hours about which famous models he’d seen naked and what kind of underwear they each wore. And somehow, Renly doubted that Loras would enjoy describing who had worn which colour thong. It was for his own good that he never met either of them.

Perhaps Loras disagreed though. He looked almost offended at his words. Renly was unsurprised; he knew that Loras didn’t understand how his family worked. He’d probably assumed that Renly’s reluctance to introduce him to his brothers suggested that he wasn’t serious about their future together. A reasonable assumption, Renly guessed, considering that Loras came from a family who loved him enough to see past all his previous behaviour.

Loras didn’t say anything though and so Renly reached out to take his hand again. “Come have a cuddle?” he yawned, trying to tug him towards him.

“Can’t.”

Refusing to let go, Renly pulled until Loras consented to lie down next to him. “Well, why not?” he murmured, winding his arms around him.

Loras didn’t fight Renly’s embrace but nor did he reciprocate it. “Because it’s Wednesday,” he said simply.

“So?” Renly groaned. Loras was tucked under his chin now and just the smell of him was intoxicating. If Renly had had his way, he’d have peeled off all his clothes and put his morning erection to good use.

“Well, I see that lady on Wednesdays,” Loras said quietly, leaning his forehead against Renly’s bare chest.

Renly tightened his arms around him. He’d forgotten all about Loras’ counsellor and he cursed the fact that she had to come today of all days. “Oh yeah,” he yawned though. “Course you do.”

Loras shrugged a little stiffly. “Well we’ll only be an hour so you’re welcome to stay here and sleep until I’m done if you like.”

Renly nodded, and rather reluctantly, let Loras go.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly dozed quite happily in Loras’ absence and it was only when it was ten past twelve that he thought it safe to get up and dressed. He had resigned himself earlier to the fact that he’d probably have to wear most of what he’d had on yesterday but after a good rifle through Loras’ wardrobe, he was pleased to find that he had not one, not two, but three shirts to choose from. All three were his own and yet Renly hadn’t seen any of them since he’d split up with Loras over two years ago- he supposed that they’d gone with Loras on some shoot or another or back home and had just never come back. They’d been in with Loras’ pyjamas and Renly wondered whether Loras had worn them to bed whilst he’d been alone in New York. That made Renly feel a little sad somehow. He didn’t really know much about how Loras had passed those months alone and he suspected that he was better off not knowing.

Indeed, Renly tried to think about anything else as he left Loras’ bedroom- a feat that wasn’t too difficult considering that the pair of boxers he’d borrowed from Loras were cutting painfully into his hips. Evidently the elasticated waistband wasn’t quite elasticated enough.  
He was just thinking that he really ought to bring some of his clothes to Loras’ so that he wouldn’t have to suffer through this again when he walked straight into the path of a tall black lady and only just about avoided knocking her over.

“I’m really sorry,” he said hurriedly. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’d assumed you and Loras had finished.”

She seemed surprised to see anyone in the hallway too and blinking, she looked Renly up and down. Renly could see immediately why she was one of the only people who managed to cow Loras into submission: statuesque and imposing, she was just as glamorous as her client and almost as tall. Her gaze roving over him made him feel like he was being strip-searched.

“It’s quite alright,” she told him though. She gave him an amused smile. “You must be Renly.”

“Yeah,” Renly said, running a hand through his hair. “That’s me.” He felt suddenly shy and more than a little bit nervous. It had just occurred to him that this woman knew about all of the terrible things he’d ever done to Loras- all of the horrible things he’d said and all of the unforgivable mistakes he’d made. He found himself shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

“No need to look like that,” she said sternly. “Loras speaks very fondly of you.”

Renly gulped. “He does?”

“Yes,” she said simply, resting her briefcase on the floor. “He does.”

Renly nodded, wondering whether he could relax now or not. The woman in front of him was clearly trying to put him at ease and yet Renly couldn’t have felt more uneasy. It was a terrible thing to admit, but in many ways he was jealous of this woman. He knew that Loras told her more than he’d ever tell him, that Loras actually sat down with her and spoke about his feelings. He’d have given everything he owned to be able to see inside her brain and see what she knew.

“Can I ask you a question?” he blurted out.

One of the lady’s eyebrows arched. “That depends,” she said, “on what you want to ask me.”

“I want to know if he’s happy,” Renly admitted.

The woman clearly hadn’t been expecting that and she regarded Renly curiously. “I really shouldn’t say,” she said. “I’m very much bound by confidentiality.”

Renly couldn’t hide his disappointment.

His expression must have amused her. “But perhaps just this once,” she relented with a bemused shake of her head. She paused for a good long moment. “Is he happy…” she said slowly. “That’s really the thing you most want to know?”

Renly nodded. He wondered if he should be embarrassed about that. He supposed that most people in relationships ought to be able to take the answer to that question for granted. He on the other hand liked to _think_ that Loras was happy but he wouldn’t have bet anything substantial on it. He couldn’t help fearing sometimes that Loras had been so desperate for them to get back together for so long that the reality could never live up to what he’d dreamt about.

Loras’ counsellor smiled though. “Well I suppose there’s no harm in telling you that,” she said. “He seems perfectly happy to me. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time anyway.”

Renly let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Oh good,” he whispered.

That seemed to amuse the woman even further. “Oh good indeed,” she chuckled, and picking up her briefcase, she let herself out.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras found Renly sitting wearily on the hall floor several minutes later and he looked rather bemused to see him there. Head cocked to one side, he held out a hand to help Renly up, heaving him to his feet.

“What you doing down there?” he asked.

“I just needed a sit down,” Renly told him with a sigh. “That lady of yours is scary. I felt like it was judgement day already.”

Loras just laughed at him. “Man up,” he smirked. “She’s hardly scarier than I am.” He brushed Renly’s clothes down once he was up and steady on his feet. “Anyway, I was coming to find you and see if you wanted to go get lunch?”

Renly’s stomach rumbled as if on cue. “I’d love to,” he groaned. “But you’re forgetting one important thing. You’re you. We can’t go anywhere without a thousand photos. And if I’m pictured with you, Stannis will know I’m lying about being ill today.”

“Well we could go undercover?” Loras said slyly. “We could do what Gisele did last year to get plastic surgery and wear burqas or something.”

Renly had to laugh. He imagined he’d make a rather unbelievably tall woman and that he’d probably draw just as much attention. “Yeah,” he said bluntly. “I don’t think so.”

Loras grinned. “Would it help if I tweeted a get-well tweet to you? Forty five million people would know you’re sick then?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Nah,” he said. “My brother doesn’t have twitter. Not sure he even has a mobile actually- aside from his work Blackberry of course.” He shared a glance with Loras. “Doesn’t have any friends, you see.”

Loras didn’t laugh. He merely shrugged. “I don’t really have any friends either to be fair.”

Renly was quiet. What Loras said was unfortunately true. He presumed that there must have been friends in New York but Loras seemed to have cut all ties with anyone he’d known back then. Renly supposed that the friends had probably been addicts too.

“Well yeah,” he agreed reluctantly. “But you’ll make lots of friends in September.”

Loras just shrugged. “Whatever,” he said grimly. “Anyway, I guess you’ll have to make do with my cooking for lunch then if you’re refusing to come out.”

Renly made a face. He knew full well they could have got a take away instead. Being subjected to Loras’ cooking was clearly Loras’ way of punishing him for not being brave enough to go out.

“Sure…” he sighed. “What are my choices then?”

Loras shrugged, taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen. “Well you can have cheese on toast, Heinz tomato soup or a jacket potato. Could probably stretch to pasta and cheese if you’re particularly nice to me.”

“Is that all you can do?” Renly laughed.

Loras shrugged again, not bothering to defend his poor repertoire. “It’s not my fault you’re too cowardly to go out.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I’ll have a jacket potato then. Even you can’t screw that up _too_ much.”

Loras shot daggers at him and Renly had to hold his tongue as he watched him put two jacket potatoes for them in the microwave. Personally he’d have put them in the oven and waited a little longer for something decent-tasting but Loras clearly had no appreciation for good food.

“Ren,” Loras said as he put the finished plate of jacket potato and cheese in front of him, “you do know that it’s my birthday next Tuesday don’t you?”

Renly scrunched his eyes up, fist tightening on his knife and fork. He’d completely forgotten about Loras’ birthday. “Course I know,” he lied. “I was thinking of getting you a course of cooking classes actually.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Anyway,” he pressed, ignoring his own jacket potato entirely. “Would you be able to take time off?”

“Well I can ask,” Renly said, spooning a large amount of distinctly unfluffy potato into his mouth. He couldn’t help but feel a little dubious though. His bout of ‘food poisoning’ this week certainly wouldn’t help. “Do you have any plans that need me to take time off?”

Loras was silent for a few moments. “Well yeah actually,” he said eventually. “Arianne has asked me if I want to come celebrate on her yacht with her.”

Renly said nothing, merely chewing contemplatively on his potato. He hadn’t known Loras was still in touch with Arianne Martell. He’d only met the girl once but from what Loras had told him of her, he thought that she was an acquaintance that Loras was better off cutting ties with.

“I didn’t know you guys were still talking,” he remarked cautiously.

“Well we’re not often,” Loras admitted. “She called the other day out of the blue. Said she was holidaying in the Med and wanted to know if I’d join her.”

Renly nodded slowly. He wondered if there was a reason that he hadn’t been told, if Loras perhaps knew that he wouldn’t like it.

“And do you want to go?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “It might be nice. Wouldn’t be a long flight or anything.”

Renly nodded. He felt conflicted. Part of him wanted nothing more than to spend a couple of days on a very expensive yacht. The other part of him wanted to insist that this was a terrible idea and ban Loras from talking to the girl ever again. He said nothing though. He didn’t think it his place and that part of him which wanted to party on the yacht was far too strong.

“Well, would you want to come then?” Loras pressed.

“If you wanted me to,” Renly murmured. “You sure _you_ want to though?”

Loras scowled, letting his knife and fork clatter to the table. “Why wouldn’t I? Arianne and I have been friends for a long time. Longer than me and you.”

His tone was dark and Renly knew not to push it. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll go then.”

Loras was suddenly all smiles again. “Good,” he said. “We can go on Saturday then? If you can get time off.”

Renly nodded.


	89. Chapter 89

Stannis rejected Renly’s request for a few days off around Loras’ birthday on the Thursday evening. Renly got the email through on his Blackberry just as he and Loras were finishing off an evening’s driving and even though he still wasn’t convinced this trip was a good idea, it pissed him off no end, so much so that he barely even noticed Loras’ speed creeping up to fifty five on the way home.

“You still there, Renly?” Loras asked as he pulled up outside Renly’s house, waving a hand in front of Renly’s face.

“Yeah,” Renly said. “I am. And if you drive like that in your test, they’ll fail you.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. Whatever you say. So what’s the terrible news that’s got you all distant then?”

“Stannis says I can’t take time off next week.” Even as he got out of the car, Renly could see how Loras was taking that piece of news. The disappointment would have been visible from a mile off.

Sighing, Renly took his phone out of his pocket as he unlocked the door with his other hand. There was only one person who could overrule Stannis and while Renly ordinarily hated phoning Robert, he reckoned he could grin and bear it for Loras.

He flopped down on the sofa while it rang, stretched out across the length of it. He was unsurprised when he got Robert’s voicemail. It was very rare for Robert to be sober enough to operate a phone after the hours of five in the afternoon. He’d probably been on the hard liquor since lunchtime.

“Try again?” Loras asked, coming to sit by him.

Renly duly rang again, kicking his shoes off so that he could put his feet up on the sofa. He’d almost given up when Robert answered on the seventh ring.

“What’s up?” Robert grunted. He’d clearly already knocked back a few beers but his voice was only a little slurred.

“I need a few days off next week,” Renly told him, thinking he ought to get straight to the point before Robert decided he’d rather continue drinking than listen to him. “And Stannis has said no.”

“Ah yeah,” Robert said. “He might have mentioned it. Unfortunately the old git’s right for once though. Afraid we can’t spare you, kid. Not next week anyway. You’ve got three meetings with clients on Tuesday. Who’d you suggest take ‘em?”

“You’ve got other lawyers,” Renly pointed out evenly, his spare hand migrating to Loras’ hair. Loras had shifted now to lie next to him and Renly gave his head a gentle push until he consented to rest it on Renly’s chest where stroking his hair would be easier.

“Yeah but this lot are important buggers,” Robert was grumbling. “Can’t expect them to meet with those nobodies.”

“Have them meet Jaime then if it’s shameless nepotism you’re after,” Renly insisted. “His father’s a shareholder.”

Robert just grunted again. He clearly wasn’t convinced.

“Please?” Renly tried. He was very conscious of the warm weight on his chest- a warm weight that would be very disappointed if it didn’t get his own way. “It’s Loras’ birthday. And he wants to take me on a private yacht. With a Victoria’s Secret model.”

Lazily, Loras held up six fingers.

Renly looked down at him. “With six Victoria’s Secret models?”

Loras nodded.

“Yes,” Renly repeated gleefully. “With _six_ Victoria’s Secret models.”

Robert gave a guffawing laugh. “Six?” he asked. “Nah… You’re pulling my old leg.”

“No, I’m not,” Renly insisted. “They’re all going to be there. It’s like a Victoria’s Secret party. They’ll be Angels everywhere, in the pool, in the sea. In their bikinis.”

Robert was clearly hanging onto his every word. “Is that Candice one going to be there? You know, the leggy blonde?”

Renly looked questioningly down at Loras who nodded.

“Yes,” Renly told him. “She is. And I’m going to take lots of pictures. So many pictures. And if Loras asks her nicely, maybe she’ll even sign one for you.”

Robert snorted. “God,” he laughed. “It’s all a bloody waste with you as you are. But alright then. Just this once. You make sure to tell her all about me though. Would make a nice change from Cersei, eh?”

“Definitely,” Renly laughed. He wasn’t going to be the one who told him that Candice Swanepoel would definitely not look twice at a fat, aging man like Robert.

He put the phone down triumphantly. “There we go,” he told Loras with a smile. “You owe me one.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sansa all but bounced into the office tomorrow morning. She’d come in late from a casting call and perhaps she’d got the job because she was all smiles as she came in the door, her heels clattering loudly on the wooden floor.

Renly merely gave her a lazy wave. His mind was still on all the packing he had to do tonight. He and Loras were taking a flight out of London City Airport in the early hours of tomorrow morning and there seemed to be so much to do but so little time. He’d have to choose what clothes to pack for one and Renly dreaded to think how long that would take. He had no idea what the dress code for a private yacht was and he certainly didn’t want to get it wrong. He didn’t imagine that his audience would be forgiving.

He was snapped out of his musings by an excited tap on his shoulder.

“Jane says that apparently you’re going on a yacht,” Sansa gushed as soon as she had his attention.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “And how did she know that?”

“One of the lawyers on her floor is covering your client meetings on Monday.”

“Oh.” Sighing, Renly wondered if he was becoming paranoid. He’d immediately assumed the worst, his mind jumping instantly to the redhead on Jeyne’s floor who wrote for Petyr Baelish. He was relieved and surprised to find it all above board for once.

“So,” Sansa pressed, “where are you going?”

“Capri.”

The jealousy on Sansa’s face was tangible. “How lovely,” she sighed. “It’s supposed to be absolutely beautiful there. Is there even an airport at Capri though?”

“Nah,” Renly said. “We’re flying to Rome and then Loras is chartering a helicopter.” He had to smile as he said that; it sounded so exotic, so exciting. Most people’s boyfriends didn’t simply charter helicopters as if they were booking a taxi.

“Couldn’t you have picked a destination with an airport?” Sansa laughed. “I mean, it’s a yacht right? By definition it can move around.”

Renly smiled, amused. “You know, that’s exactly what I said. But I’m told it makes no real difference. Apparently you have to take a helicopter or small boat anyway to get to the actual yacht. It can’t moor in many of the Med’s harbours.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s too big,” Renly laughed. “Apparently it has to sit outside the harbour.”

“Wow…” Sansa’s face became all dreamy. “That sounds amazing. You must be looking so forward to it. I know I would be.”

Renly ran a hand through his hair, conflicted. “Well if you must know, at first I thought it was a terrible idea actually.”

“What?” Sansa looked disgusted by his very words. To her, there could clearly be nothing terrible about a superyacht coasting around Capri’s crystal clear waters.

“Because of the sort of people that will be there,” Renly clarified with a sigh. “You know, they’re the sort of lot that I think Loras should really avoid.” He looked up at her and grinned. “But then Loras told me more about this yacht and I’ve decided he can take his chances.”

Sansa laughed. “Well to be fair,” she said, “it’s not your job to babysit him. If he says he can handle it, then he can handle it.”

“Indeed,” Renly chuckled. “And what better place to handle it than on a yacht with two swimming pools, a tennis court and a cinema?”

“Exactly,” Sansa grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

Even at eight o’clock in the morning the sky above Italy was a glorious blue. The sea was a glorious blue too and Renly couldn’t help peering out of the helicopter to stare at it. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a proper holiday and despite his reservations about this one, he was getting more than a little excited.

“How far now?” Renly asked Loras. He was all too aware he sounded like an impatient child.

Loras stirred sleepily next to him. As short as the journey was compared to the long haul flights he was used to, he’d no doubt found it tiring. He’d been dozing on Renly’s shoulder since they’d left Rome.

“What?” he mumbled.

“Do you think we’re nearly there?”

“Don’t know,” Loras yawned, nestling back against his shoulder. “How long’s it been?”

“About an hour. How long’s it supposed to take?”

Loras’ forehead knitted as he evidently thought for a few moments. “Don’t know,” he said again. “Ask the pilot.”

“You don’t know anything, do you?” Renly teased softly, rolling his eyes. Gently though, he wrapped an arm round him. He figured that he should let him sleep. Even allowing for the fact that they’d got up at four, he got the feeling that Loras had had a restless night.

A quarter of an hour later though, they were flying over Capri’s harbour and Renly couldn’t resist the urge to gently shake him awake again. Unable to stop the smile spreading across his face, he pointed out at the rows and rows of boats beneath them- all of which looked very very fancy. “Which one is it?” he asked.

Yawning, Loras peered out of the window too. “That one right out there,” he said. “The big one with the orange stripe down it.”

Renly spotted it immediately and his smile widened. He could see both of the pools clearly and he strained to read the writing on the side. “The Water Gardens?” he asked.

“Yeah, that one. Shitty name I know.”

Renly was barely listening. They were landing now and he could see a figure in an orange shirt waiting for them on the deck. He was clearly one of the undoubtedly numerous crew members. Indeed, once the helicopter had come to a complete stop and Loras had tipped the pilot, he stepped up to take their bags, greeting them in heavily accented English.

“It’s deserted,” Renly whispered to Loras as they followed the man up off the helipad.

“It’s not even nine o’clock,” Loras mumbled. “And it’s a Saturday morning. Knowing Arianne, she went hard last night.”

The room they were led to was as luxurious as any five star hotel room and had Renly not known otherwise, he would never have believed that they were on a boat. Everywhere he looked everything was rich and expensive. The carpet was thick underfoot and deep plum silks hung from the ceiling and fanned out around the bed. Indeed, the only thing that gave away the fact that they were at sea was the discreet screws holding the larger items of furniture to the walls.

As soon as the crew member had left them, Loras sank onto the bed, disappearing behind the curtain of purple silk.

Smiling, Renly parted the curtains so that he could see him properly, tying them back with an equally luxurious magenta ribbon. He was unsurprised to see Loras stretched out across the bed, his eyes already closed.

Reaching over to touch his hair, Renly sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you have a yacht like this, Loras,” he laughed. “It’s amazing. I could happily live here.”

Loras didn’t even open his eyes. “One big reason,” he said bluntly.

“Which is…?”

“Can’t afford it.”

“Really?” Renly asked, his hand pausing in Loras’ hair. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Loras say he couldn’t afford something. It was a strange concept. “How much are these sort of yachts then?”

It took Loras a while to answer. “This one was almost half a billion dollars,” he said.

Renly whistled. “Right...” he laughed. “That’s like the Gross National Income of a small _country_.”

Loras nodded, reaching out for a pillow and hugging it to him. “Don’t get me wrong,” he muttered. “I could afford something smaller but it’s not the purchase price that’s the issue. It’s the maintenance. You’ve got insurance and fuel and mooring fees and crew wages and god knows what else.”

“How does Arianne afford one then?” Renly chuckled. "She doesn’t earn that much more than you, does she?”

“Nah,” Loras said, his voice muffled by the pillow. “She doesn’t. This yacht is daddy’s. She just gets to use it whenever she wants. She’s even more spoilt than me.”

Renly laughed. “God, I never thought I’d say it but you’re not rich enough for me.”

Loras opened his eyes to glare at him. “Zip it,” he said. “I’ll charter one for you some time.”

“Good,” Renly grinned and, leaning over, he tugged at one of Loras’ hands. “But first we should make the most of this one. Let’s go explore. This is the perfect time if everyone else is asleep. Or hung over rather...”

“You go,” Loras yawned. “I’ll come later.”

“But I can’t go by myself,” Renly said. “She’s your friend. Not mine.”

“I know,” Loras mumbled. “But I just need a nap first.”

He sounded so tired that Renly knew he was fighting a losing battle here. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed though. Loras had been so adamant about coming but now that they were here he seemed more than a little reserved.

“Okay,” he said though. “You want to sleep then while I unpack?”

Loras nodded.

Leaving him be, Renly set himself to unpacking. And despite the fact he’d rather be out exploring, he found that he actually rather enjoyed the experience. Even the clothes hangers were all padded silk and Renly got a strange sort of satisfaction hanging up his things on them. That satisfaction then tripled when he walked into their en-suite. It was lovelier than he could ever have expected, with a large circular bath tub that was big enough for both him and Loras to get into.

It was only when it came to unpacking the few final items in his suitcase that Renly hesitated. He’d dithered last night when he’d chucked a box of condoms into the pile of things to be taken with him and now, sitting on the floor in a very expensive but unfamiliar bedroom, he was even less sure. He wasn’t confident that Loras would be as enthusiastic as he was about the potential for this being a romantic weekend away for the two of them and he looked down at the box of condoms in his hands with a sigh. He wanted to be optimistic and put them in a bedside drawer just on the off chance that Loras might up for something but he couldn’t help but worry that he’d get the silent treatment if Loras saw them and thought he was being pushy. With that in mind, Renly wondered whether he was better of keeping them in his suitcase safely out of sight. That way if nothing did happen, he could take them home without Loras ever knowing that he’d come on this trip hoping to have sex.

“Don’t bother,”

Renly almost jumped at the sound of Loras’ voice and he dropped the box of condoms guiltily, the contents spilling across the carpet. “You’re awake are you?” he asked, swivelling round to face him.

Loras shrugged, propped up on one elbow. “Clearly.”

Renly tried to smile as he gathered the condoms up. He could feel Loras’ eyes on him though and he couldn’t quite manage it. He looked up when he had them all back in the box, daring to meet Loras’ gaze.

“You sure?” he asked with a laugh. “I mean, it’s awfully romantic, this room, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Loras agreed. “It is.”

Renly bit his lip. “But still no?”

“Still no.”

Obediently, Renly put the box back in the bottom of his suitcase, glad that he hadn’t even bothered taking the bottle of lube out. He couldn’t hide the fact that he was disappointed but he supposed that if he tried really hard, he could probably understand why Loras had shot him down so certainly. He guessed that Loras wanted to be at home when they had sex, in a bedroom that was familiar to him and where he felt comfortable.

Stowing his suitcase on the very fancy upholstered luggage rack, Renly crossed the room to sit next to him. Sex or no sex, he didn’t want them to start off this trip on the wrong foot.

“You okay?” he asked. “I haven’t upset you, have I?”

Loras shook his head. “I’m fine,” he told him. “Just tired.”

Renly lay down next to him. “Didn’t you sleep at all last night?” he asked. He hadn’t been expecting Loras to be this tired. Not when Loras had texted him good night at about nine in the evening last night, just as Renly had _started_ packing.

Loras shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled. “Nothing unusual.”

Softly, Renly stroked his hair back off his face. “What kept you up?” he asked. “You nervous about coming or something?”

Loras scowled. “Why would I be nervous about coming?” Clearly pissed off, he tried to jerk his head away.

Renly kept his hand firmly anchored in his hair though. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “This is a little closer to your old lifestyle. I think it’d be fair if you were a little, well, apprehensive.”

Loras said nothing and that was a partial admission in itself. “Just come here, Ren,” he murmured.

Renly moved closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He was a little surprised when Loras hugged him tightly back. For a good few moments Renly just held him, a hand cradling the back of his head against his shoulder.

“So what’s got you all stressed out then?” he breathed.

Loras raised his head. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “I just need this trip to go well. I have to be able to do this, if you get what I mean.”

Renly cocked his head. “No, not really,” he admitted. “You don’t have to do anything, Loras.”

“Well I can’t hide forever,” Loras mumbled. He glanced up again and there was something a little fierce about his expression. “I’m a model, Ren. That’s what I do. And if I ever want to model again, I have to learn to keep my head around people like this.”

“If you say so,” Renly said quietly. He wound a curl around his finger. “You know though, you could just fuck around with me forever and never work again. That’d be okay too.”

Loras laughed, the sound warm against Renly’s neck. “I know, Ren. I know. But I’m bored. It might be different if you didn’t work but you do and I need my own life.”

“Well you’re starting at college in September,” Renly pointed out.

“Yeah,” Loras agreed. “And I doubt anyone there will be much better than this lot.” He made a face. “If there’s anybody worse than models and designers, it’s _aspiring_ models and designers. So unless I want to hide in the closet for the next year or so, I need to be able to do this.” He paused, a hand coming up to rest on Renly’s waist. “And this way, you get to be here with me.”

“Does that make a difference?”

“Yeah, Ren,” Loras said softly. “It makes all the difference.”


	90. Chapter 90

Robert had given Renly his permission to take time off, but by the time that Monday had rolled round, it was perhaps clear that he shouldn’t have done. It wasn’t even midday yet in London and already Renly had been bombarded by ever more desperate messages from Sansa as she tried to keep her morning at work from falling apart at the seams.

Indeed, Renly had just punched out a reply to her twenty fifth message when his phone screen lit up with an incoming skype call. With an apologetic glance at Loras, he got up off his sunbed and headed towards the steps that led up to the next deck- where apparently the wifi signal was better. Glancing behind him, he could see that everyone else was watching him go. Indeed, he imagined that he was the only one of Arianne’s guests who didn’t have a manager to deal with all of life’s little mundane problems. He remembered when he’d first been introduced to them all on the Saturday morning; many of them had thought it “cute” that Loras had a boyfriend with a desk job.

It was only when he was up the steps that he answered Sansa’s call. “What now?” he laughed, sitting down on one of the plushy seats that lined the yacht’s edge and admiring the view. They were cruising off the coast of Sardinia now and if he sat at an angle, he could look right over its crystal clear waters.

Sansa sounded stressed when she spoke. “Jaime wants to know who the guy he’s seeing at twelve is?”

Renly blinked. “He doesn’t even know who he is?” he clarified. He’d clearly underestimated how much of a shambles Robert’s company was. “Well it’s all on the system, Sansa. In that Total Office programme. Otherwise, tell him to look in my bottom drawer. All the client profiles are in there, provided that they’ve been with us since before 2009.”

“I really should have known that, shouldn’t I?” Sansa sighed.

“Yep,” Renly agreed. “You really should have. You’ve been working for me, for what? Three, four years?”

There was a rustling of paper over the line and then Renly heard Jaime swear loudly in the background. He was no doubt finding out just how many files Renly had in his bottom drawer.

“I’ll just leave him to sort it out,” Sansa whispered. There was the loud sound of her shutting the door. “So anyway, how have the last two days been? You have to tell me everything.”

Renly smiled, looking out at the cliffs. “Well I could certainly get used to this,” he admitted. Indeed, the whole experience was right up his street. Everything seemed rather _fluid_ on a yacht. You went to bed off the coast of one gloriously beautiful island and woke up next to another. Food seemed to appear magically out of kitchens and the biggest problem that ever arose was the chef running out of avocados- a situation that was quickly remedied by one of the crew taking a swift helicopter to the nearest island to replenish supplies.

“And everyone’s nice?” Sansa asked.

“Yeah actually,” Renly said. “It’s mainly Arianne’s model friends with a few boyfriends tagging along. They all knew my name which was nice. Or at least somebody had told them it and they remembered.”

Sansa made a disgruntled noise. “Of course they all know your name, Renly. You’re dating _Loras Tyrell_.”

“Yeah I know,” Renly chuckled. “But still.”

“Do they all know Loras? Like personally?”

Renly thought. It had certainly seemed that way when he’d been introduced to them. Most of the girls had squealed like Sansa did upon seeing a particularly cute baby when they’d seen Loras. Apparently it was a while since Loras had been among them.

“Yeah I think so,” Renly told her. “Not the boyfriends. But all the girls. I get the feeling everyone knows everyone in these sorts of circles.”

“Yeah,” Sansa agreed. “Rich, beautiful people keep to themselves.” There was a wistful tone to her voice that told Renly very clearly that she wanted to be part of that group.

“Yeah,” Renly laughed. “Everyone here is super rich and beautiful. And it’s mainly women. Robert would think he’d died and gone to heaven.”

“God he would. Did you get Candice Swanepoel’s autograph for him?”

“Oh yeah…” Renly grinned. “It was great actually. When I said that my brother had asked specifically for hers, all the others got all jealous. So they’ve taken a selfie in their bikinis on one of those Polaroid cameras and they’ve all signed it. In lipstick.”

Sansa laughed. “Wow. I’m so jealous.”

Renly snorted. “Really? I’d have thought you’d prefer being on a yacht with crowds of hot men. I know I would.”

Sansa laughed, her voice a little crackly over the line. “Oi,” she said. “Play nice. You’ve got Loras.”

“I know,” Renly chuckled. “I was kidding.” He was telling the truth too; he and Loras had got on very well over the last few days. Renly was pleasantly surprised. It was the most time they’d spent together without a break from one another in a long time and they hadn’t even had a cross word yet.

“No other gay men at all then?” Sansa asked.

“No actually,” Renly told her, shifting slightly along the cushioned bench so that he was in the shade. He thought it for the best that he and Loras were alone in that. He’d never dealt with Loras around other gay men- not when they’d been dating at least- and he didn’t think Loras would be keen. He imagined instead that Loras would be jealous and paranoid.

“So what’s happening now?” Sansa asked excitedly. “Give me a snapshot.”

Renly stood up so that he could see down to the pool. “Well not everyone is up,” he said. “In fact, _none_ of the couples are up except us. They’re probably still having hot morning sex. And everyone who is up is either in the pool or sunbathing.”

“And Loras?”

Renly looked fondly over at Loras. “Well Loras is revising for his theory test on a lilo. Which is probably not going to end well. I give it ten minutes before that textbook is in the water. And then how is he going to learn about the proper way to tow a caravan?”

Sansa laughed. “But he’s having a good time?”

Renly paused as he looked at Loras. He doubted that revising for his theory was particularly riveting but he _thought_ he was having a good time in general. He seemed to get on well with everyone at least- they all spent their time talking about various designers and brands that they’d modelled for and Loras certainly had common ground there. Renly wasn’t particularly sure, however, that he was entirely at ease. Rather strangely, Renly thought, he’d insisted on wearing a t-shirt every day. Whether that was because he was paranoid about the sun or still insecure about his body, Renly wasn’t sure. All the other men on the yacht were more than a little ripped and whilst Loras entertained the idea of going to the gym every now and then, Renly had yet to see that materialise.

“Yeah,” he told Sansa though. “I think he’s having a good time.”

Sansa dropped her voice. “And any drugs?”

“Not that I’ve seen,” Renly laughed. “Unless you’re counting weed. But to be honest, I’m not sure whether I’d have expected to yet. When we arrived, they’d apparently been on a massive bender the night before. They’ve spent all bloody weekend recovering.” He sighed heavily, eyes still on Loras as he floated aimlessly with his textbook. “It’s Tuesday that I’m worried about. We’re docking at Ibiza and having a party in honour of Loras’ birthday.”

Sansa didn’t seem to share his fears. “But it’ll be so much fun,” she gushed. “You’re going to have a party on a superyacht.”

Renly shrugged. “I dunno…” he said slowly. “I think I’ll spend most of it watching Loras like a hawk.”

Sansa sighed heavily. “It’s been more than a year. Don’t you trust him?”

“No,” Renly said bluntly. “And I don’t think he trusts himself either actually.”

“It’ll be fine,” Sansa told him. “Just live a little.” She paused before letting out a sigh. “Anyway, it’s almost twelve. I’ve got to go and collect that client from downstairs for Jaime.”

Glancing at the time on his phone, Renly saw that it was actually a few minutes past twelve in London. Bidding her run down the stairs to get the client, he let her go and wandered back down to the pool. It was easily the hottest part of the day now and Renly was glad it was only early June or else he’d have felt it necessary to retreat into the shade.

As it was, the sun wasn’t unbearably hot and Renly sank back down onto his sunbed, stretching out his legs. He wondered idly whether he ought to apply more sun cream. He’d always thought that he looked after his skin but watching these models, he had to suspect whether he was mistaken. Some of them were neurotic about the sun and their moisturiser. Only Arianne seemed not to care at all. She did put sun-cream on but it was factor two and Renly suspected it did absolutely nothing.

He’d just got his own bottle of factor twenty out when Loras spotted he was back.

“How’s Sansa?” he asked.

Renly shrugged, squeezing out a good amount of sun cream into his hands and rubbing it into his arms. “Fine. Work’s falling apart without me.”

Loras frowned, using one hand to propel his lilo closer to the side of the pool. “You know, Ren,” he said. “I never got the feeling you actually _did_ anything at work.”

Renly rolled his eyes, applying sun cream to his legs now. He could understand where Loras got that impression from. He thought it was unfair though- especially nowadays. He actually got _more_ work done now that Sansa was only in a few days a week. Not as much as when Brienne had been his personal assistant- as she had been too conscientious to slack off with him- but significantly more.

Climbing off his lilo onto solid ground, Loras came to perch on the edge of his sunbed. “Here,” he said, taking the sun cream off Renly. “I’ll do your back.”

Renly duly swivelled round for him, trying not to let Loras see how much the offer made him smile. As soon as his back was turned though, he closed his eyes happily. The sun was warm on his face, Loras’ hands felt nice on his back and quite honestly, Renly reckoned he could have sat there forever.

Loras wiped his hands on Renly’s legs once he was done and Renly couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“Do the rest won’t you?” he laughed. “It’s only you do it so well.”

Loras rolled his eyes but he obediently picked the sun cream back up and gestured for Renly to turn round. A rather smug smile on his face, he did Renly’s front for him too, hands moving across his skin in soothing circular motions. He started with his shoulders, working down his chest until his fingers were practically under the waistband of his shorts. It was probably the closest he’d got to such areas since Renly had accidentally slept with him last November and Renly closed his eyes blissfully again. He wished that they were on a nudist beach so that Loras would have had to apply sun cream all over.

He was just imagining such a thing when a noise from Loras brought him to his senses.

“What?” Renly asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Loras told him, hands pausing around Renly’s navel. “It’s just it takes so long to rub this stuff in where you’re all hairy.”

“Ha.” Arianne spoke before Renly could even open his mouth. Looking over her glossy magazine, she smirked at Loras. “Don’t you lie. It’s just because you like touching him.”

Loras snorted. “Is not.”

“Oh it’s okay,” Arianne purred. “No need to be shy. I would be exactly the same if he was my boyfriend and I was allowed to touch.”

That provoked a lot of laughter from the girls around her and Renly had to grin. He hadn’t noticed before but he could see that most of them were watching him. It was unsurprising, he thought. Whilst the other men here clearly worked out more than him, he was definitely the best looking of the bunch- along with Loras that was.

Loras was not grinning though. He just rolled his eyes at Arianne and moved back onto his own sunbed. Once he’d settled, he turned back to Renly, his textbook on his lap. “Would you test me?”

“Sure.”

Loras chucked his textbook over without another word and Renly only just about had time to catch it. It was damp around the edges from where Loras’ wet hands had been flicking through it on the lilo and Renly wondered how it would look when his sun-creamy hands had been all over it too.

He looked over at Loras. “Is there a separate answer book or anything?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Answer book? You shouldn’t need the answers. You can drive. You must have passed this yourself.”

“Yeah _eleven_ years ago,” Renly agreed. “I promptly forgot it all once I passed. You know you don’t _actually_ need to know all this stuff to be a good driver.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “The answers are in the back.”

“Alright then. Let me just find my sunglasses. It’s too bright to read otherwise.”

Loras chucked his own over. “Here,” he said. “Borrow mine.”

“I’d say thanks but all you do with them is keep your hair off your face.”

Loras rolled his eyes again. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Just open the god damn book.”

Grinning at him, Renly stretched out on his front. He started with the easy questions, working up to the harder ones once he was sure that Loras had them right. He was actually pleasantly surprised; Loras had a better memory for almost pointless facts than he would have expected and it didn’t take Renly long to get through the whole lot.

“I’m done,” Loras said when he’d successfully answered the last question- a particularly tricky one about fog lights. “I’m going to go in the pool before I melt.”

Smiling, Renly snapped the textbook shut. He was glad to be able to toss it to the ground. Even though it was huge, the yacht wasn’t the most stable of things and Renly had been beginning to feel a little sea sick. He was pleased to be able to relax back on his sunbed and watch Loras as he splashed around in the pool with several of the girls. He only wished that Loras wasn’t in a t-shirt. That would have made for much better viewing.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a shadow passing over him. Looking up, he saw Arianne lowering herself onto Loras’ sunbed. She was barefoot and in a strappy black bikini that showed off her figure. Robert’s tongue would have fallen out of his mouth if he’d seen her.

“Do you mind?” she asked, her voice like honey. “It’s criminal that Loras keeps you all to himself.” She stretched out her shapely tanned legs without even waiting for an answer.

Renly just grinned at her before turning back to watch Loras. He was no lover of women but he could appreciate this one’s beauty. His ego was definitely a little flattered by the fact that she’d chosen to come and sit next to him.

Arianne must have followed his gaze. “He looks so well,” she sighed, her eyes clearly on Loras too. 

“Yeah,” Renly agreed fondly. “Doesn’t he?”

“You know,” Arianne murmured softly. “If you’d told me he’d be well like this a year and a half ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. He was sick, Renly, properly properly sick.” She pronounced Renly’s name with rolling 'R's and Renly imagined it would have made most men go weak at the knees.

He looked back at Loras. He could see the truth of Arianne’s words. The boy in the pool was unrecognisable from a year ago. His hair was thick and healthy, and his t-shirt didn’t swamp him. “I know,” he said, sharing a sideways glance with Arianne.

“I saw him in January, you know. After he’d refused to go home for Christmas. And he was a mess, you know. An absolute mess. I genuinely thought he’d be lucky to see his twenty third birthday, let alone his twenty fourth.”

Renly smiled sadly. He liked to think she was exaggerating for effect but he remembered Loras back then too. He’d barely weighed eight and a half stone and he’d been in such a state that his hair had almost been falling out.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But that’s all in the past now.”

Arianne laughed, a sound that was like velvet. “Yes,” she said. “You’ve looked after him.”

Renly held his hands up. “Nothing to do with me,” he told her. “It’s his family that got him clean.”

“Ah yes,” she said, curling a long dark strand of hair around her finger. “But it was you he got clean for. You were his light at the end of the passage.”

Renly shrugged; he didn’t bother to correct the idiom. “I don’t know…”

“No genuinely,” she insisted. “He loves you so much. I’ve never seen him more upset than when he came back to New York after you two split up. He hated himself.”

Renly wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On one hand, everyone liked hearing that their ex-boyfriends couldn’t cope without them. On the other, he hated to think of how miserable Loras had probably been during that year by himself in New York. Eventually though, the selfish part of him won out and he glanced back at Arianne. “Did he ever mention me?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” Arianne laughed. “Talked about you all of the time. Especially when he’d had a few drinks. Used to talk about how he missed you.”

Renly looked fondly over at Loras. “You know,” he sighed. “I’m always surprised he never rang. He had my number.”

“I think he was embarrassed,” Arianne said, “about how he’d behaved.” She dropped her voice. “You know though that he used to ring your landline sometimes when he knew you were at work. So that he could hear your voice on your machine.”

Renly snorted. He wondered what Loras would have done if he’d rang and he’d happened to be home sick from work that day. “That’s just silly,” he sighed.

Arianne smiled. “Yes, well he wasn’t always thinking straight.”

“Who wasn’t always thinking straight?” Loras was out of the pool now and he was glaring at Arianne.

Arianne just beamed at him. “You, darling.”

Loras rolled his eyes; he clearly wasn’t impressed. He glanced down scathingly at Arianne’s legs. “You’re on my sunbed,” he told her.

She just smiled cattily up at him. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Well too bad,” Arianne purred, her voice a low seductive hum. “I think I’ll just monopolise your boyfriend a little longer.” She put a hand on Renly’s arm. “So shoo. Go find somewhere else to sit.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, Loras simply sat down heavily on Renly’s thighs. It couldn’t have been very comfortable but he smirked at Arianne like the cat that had got the cream.

Renly had to laugh. Loras’ t-shirt was all wet from the pool but Renly wrapped his arms around him all the same. He liked it when Loras got territorial. He liked it a lot if he was being honest. Annoyingly though, it turned him on too and that was something he could really do without nowadays. Especially when Loras was sat on his lap.

“Told you he doesn’t think straight,” Arianne teased, dark eyes dancing. “Tens of sunbeds and he’s so jealous he has to sit right there.”

Loras stuck his tongue out at her. “What can I say,” he muttered, getting himself more comfortable on Renly’s lap. “You’ve a habit of sleeping with other people’s boyfriends.”

“But he’s gay,” Arianne laughed.

Loras shrugged. “Hasn’t stopped you trying before.”

Renly just grinned and pressed a kiss into his wet hair. “As comfortable as this is, how about you come back in the pool with me? You can keep an eye on me then.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “Let’s go in the sea instead,” he said. Climbing off Renly’s lap, he pulled him to his feet without waiting for an answer.

“We’ll have to stop first,” Arianne protested, sitting up a little taller on Loras’ sunbed. “And make sure you get someone to put the ladder down for you.”

Loras made a face, “Nah,” he said, tightening his grip on Renly’s arm. “We’ll jump. Much more fun.”

“We will?” Renly asked. He wasn’t sure that that sounded fun at all. This yacht was large and he didn’t like to think how far down the water was.

Nobody took any notice of him though. “Well you still have to put the ladder down,” Arianne was laughing. “How else are you going to get back up? Have you not seen that film? _Adrift,_ is it?”

Renly had and he shuddered. It was one of those low budget horror movies. He seemed to remember it involving a group of people jumping off a yacht, forgetting to put the ladder down and eventually being eaten by sharks. And even though there were no sharks in the Med and there’d be plenty of people still on deck, Renly thought he’d make sure to double check that the ladder was down.

“And not off the top,” Arianne added. “Second deck only.”

Loras sighed heavily, turning back reluctantly to face her. “Why not?”

“Because it’s dangerous,” Arianne said shortly. “Again, have you not seen that video of that Kardashian girl jumping off the top of that boat? She almost knocked herself out.”

“Well I’m not a girl,” Loras said.

“Yeah, and you haven’t got that fat ass for cushioning either.”

Renly had to laugh. He personally agreed with Arianne. He wasn’t sure about jumping off any of the yacht’s decks, let alone the top. He let Loras lead him away though, only vaguely registering Arianne talking to one of the crew in rapid Spanish.

Her orders must have been strict and within moments they heard the engines being thrust into reverse. Shortly after that there was a loud rumbling as the anchor was evidently lowered.

Renly felt a little apprehensive as he climbed up to the second deck with Loras. He was almost thirty and he’d long lost that fearlessness that he’d had as a teenager. He had to wonder actually whether he’d ever had it at all. He’d been bold as a youngster- but bold with his fashion choices and with how far he’d toe the line at school. He’d never felt that almost self-destructive urge to skydive or to bungee jump like some of his peers. He’d done both of those things, but to look good- not because he’d particularly wanted to.

Loras, however, clearly still possessed that fearlessness. Renly suspected he always would.

Indeed, he climbed over the railing as if he were stepping over a country stile, moving easily as if there wasn’t a near fifty foot drop on the other side.

“Come on,” he called to Renly.

Renly hesitated, one foot on the first rung of the railing. “You know,” he laughed as he looked down. “Maybe I’ll just watch.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be a baby.”

Rolling his eyes, Renly climbed over more than a little hesitantly. The ledge on the other side wasn’t as wide as he would have liked and despite it being a fall into water, he held on rather tightly. The last thing he wanted to do was slip and fall in front of so many beautiful people.

“Look,” Loras smirked. “I’ll even hold your hand if you like.”

Renly made a face at him. “Not necessary,” he muttered. He didn’t want to look quite that lame and, mustering his courage, he shuffled along the ledge to join Loras. Twisting awkwardly so that he didn’t have to let go of the railing, he then swivelled to face the sea.

“How high up are we?” he murmured to Loras. He reckoned he’d have been able to hazard a guess himself but that would have required looking down.

“Thirty feet?” Loras said. “Thirty five maybe. Not too high.”

Renly gulped, finally daring to look down. “Speak for yourself,” he muttered. He supposed things always looked further down when you were tall like him.

Loras smiled sweetly at him. “Want me to push you?”

“No thank you. I’ll jump perfectly fine by myself.”

Loras snorted. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Rolling his eyes at him, Renly jumped before he lost his resolve. As he’d known would be the case, willing himself to jump was the hardest part. He felt like he was falling forever but it was an exhilarating sensation. The water was cold when he hit it but it didn’t sting and he was laughing by the time he came back up, surfacing just in time to get a face full of sea water as Loras landed a few feet away from him.

“See,” Loras grinned, treading water next to him as his t-shirt billowed out around him. “ _Fun_.”

“Sure,” Renly conceded. He flicked water deliberately at Loras’ face in retaliation. “Now what? You don’t want to jump again, do you?”

Loras glanced back up at the yacht above them. “Later,” he said. Raising one arm out of the water, he pointed at the cliffs. There was a small cove not too far away from them. It looked deserted- unsurprising, for from what Renly could tell, it was completely inaccessible from the land unless you scaled down the cliff. “Want to swim?” he asked.

“It’s further than it looks,” Renly said.

“But not that far,” Loras pointed out. Without waiting for an answer, he headed off in that direction and Renly had no choice but to follow him.

It took them a while to reach the small cove and Renly was relieved when he could finally put his feet on the ground. He waded to the shore gladly, the sand soft underneath his feet. It was that very white and very fine sort of sand and as soon as he was clear of the waves, Renly stretched out across it, pleased to find it warm under his back from the sun.

He was joined moments later by Loras.

“This is the life,” Renly sighed, a fistful of sand in each hand.

Loras just hummed next to him. He already sounded a little sleepy and Renly closed his eyes too, enjoying the heat of the sun on his face and that tingly feeling of the water evaporating off his skin. It was how Renly would spend all of his days if he had the choice and he was quite content to lie like that for several minutes- until a far reaching wave startled him by rushing over his feet.

He rolled over, moving his feet out of the water before shifting a little closer to Loras. Unlike him, Loras had thought to move further up the beach where there would be no risk of stray waves. Moving till he was sat next to him, Renly took the hem of his wet t-shirt and peeled it off him.

“Careful,” Loras mumbled. “I haven’t got sun-cream on.” He raised his arms though for Renly to lift the t-shirt over his head.

Once it was off, Renly shifted to lie on top of him. “There you go,” he grinned. “I can be your personal parasol.”

Loras smiled up at him and Renly leant down a little so that he could kiss him, tucking a lock of wet hair behind his ear. His lips tasted salty, and for once it wasn’t because he’d been crying.


	91. Chapter 91

Renly woke late on the Tuesday morning and he rolled over to find that Loras was already awake and sat patiently at the end of the bed, his curls all ruffled on one side. The sight made Renly feel guilty and he had to wonder sleepily just how long Loras had been awake and waiting for him to wake up. He suspected it had been an hour at least and he was rather reminded of a child waiting eagerly for his parents to wake up on Christmas morning.

Sitting up, Renly reached for the mints he kept on the bedside table. “You should have woken me up,” he yawned, brushing his hair off his face.

Loras just smiled, playing absent-mindedly with the silk curtain that fell around their bed. “You were sleeping,” he said, and there was a fondness to his voice that made Renly smile.

Leaning forward, Renly tugged on the neck of his shirt. “Well Happy Birthday,” he grinned. “Only one more year before you’re halfway to thirty.”

Rolling his eyes, Loras let Renly drag him further up the bed, his checked pyjama bottoms clashing with the covers. “So you have remembered?”

Renly did his best to look wounded. “Course I remembered,” he insisted. He gave Loras’ shirt another rough tug until he was close enough for him to kiss him.

“Is that all I’m getting?” Loras laughed once Renly had pulled away again.

It was Renly’s turn to roll his eyes, and leaning down, he retrieved the card that he’d stowed under the bed last night and pressed it into Loras’ hands.

He pulled the covers back up over his shoulders while Loras opened it, a warmth filling his chest when he saw Loras smile. Renly had got him one of those cards with a soppy message inside and he was clearly appreciative. Renly was unsurprised. For all his tough exterior, Loras was a bit like a marshmallow on the inside. He needed to be told that he was loved and often.

Loras had got now to the envelope that Renly had put into the card and his smile widened as two theatre tickets fell out into his hands.

“We’ll go together right?” he asked, leaning in for another kiss.

Renly laughed against his mouth. “Course we’ll go together,” he said when they’d parted. “We’re a couple aren’t we?”

Indeed, whether it was his imagination or not, he and Loras had _felt_ more like a proper couple these past few days. Renly reckoned it was something to do with the fact that they were surrounded by people who _perceived_ them as a couple. Or the fact that they were sharing a bedroom. Even now, with both of them sat on their shared bed in pyjamas, Renly found he felt particularly content.

Loras grinned at his answer and climbed under the covers to tuck himself under Renly’s arm. “Okay then,” he said. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry it’s not more exciting,” Renly said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I mean, what do you buy someone who has everything? So I figured it’d be nice for us to have an evening out together. I’ll take you for dinner first obviously. Wherever you want.”

Loras leant his head on Renly’s shoulder. “I’d really like that,” he said.

Smiling, Renly pressed a kiss into his hair. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s about time we had a romantic evening out together.”

Loras’ expression flickered at that and Renly had to roll his eyes. He turned back to Loras a little exasperated.

“Why is it that when I say romantic, you hear obligatory sex?” he asked.

Loras shrugged, not quite meeting his eye. “Something to do with knowing you well?”

Renly laughed; he supposed he was had there. “Whatever,” he conceded. “But that’s not what I meant. This is going to be your day. We do whatever you want and nothing you don’t. ”

Loras smiled. “Okay,” he agreed. He seemed happy enough with that and he sunk back down in bed, lying on his side facing Renly.

Renly sunk down to join him, reaching out to tuck a curl behind Loras’ ear. Oddly, he that reckoned lying in bed and doing nothing was one of his favourite things. There was nothing better than lounging around lazily when you knew you didn’t have to get up and Renly imagined that he’d have been quite content to stay in bed until it was time to go to sleep again- especially if Loras kept him company.

“Loras,” he yawned. “Do we have to get up at all?”

Loras reached out to entwine their fingers. “Not if you don’t want to.”

Renly grinned. “Love you,” he chuckled.

“Yeah?”

“Course,” Renly laughed. “Do I actually need to tell you that?”

Loras just beamed at him.

 

* * *

 

 

As it was, they had to get up eventually, and even if they hadn’t, Renly reckoned there would have been little point trying to relax in bed. The music was loud and heavy, and although this had been billed as a rather exclusive party, Renly certainly could have been fooled. Judging by the sheer amount of people that were now crammed onto Arianne’s yacht, he could have easily believed that they were letting every man and his dog in. Speedboats kept coming to and fro from the port, bringing yet _more_ people, and every surface seemed to be occupied by women in very high shoes or the men pursuing them. There were even a few very drunk attention seekers in the pool.

Renly supposed he couldn’t blame them for being drunk. He reckoned there was probably enough alcohol on board to _fill_ the pool, let alone get guests drunk enough to jump in it fully clothed. There was an open bar on the first deck, a champagne fountain on the second, and if that wasn’t enough, crew members were weaving through the crowds with trays laden with cocktails. If he hadn’t been supervising Loras, Renly reckoned he’d probably have been absolutely hammered. He might even have been one of those idiots who’d jumped in the pool and then passed out on the floor.

There were even fireworks in honour of Loras’ birthday and Renly grinned as another red and white rocket exploded above them, its light shimmering off the sea. For a brief moment, it looked as if the waves had been set alight.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Renly laughed, taking Loras’ hand and dragging him over to the railings where they’d have a better view.

Loras smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “Arianne’s really outdone herself.”

Grinning, Renly squeezed Loras’ fingers as another mass of gold stars exploded above them. He was rather enjoying himself. The vast amount of people and the low lighting meant that Loras was almost able to be inconspicuous and that was definitely a good thing. Renly didn’t think he’d have appreciated being swamped by people- even on his birthday.

He was still holding Loras’ hand and watching the fireworks when another waiter approached with his tray of cocktails. There were drinks in every colour under the sun, all with mini umbrellas and fruit on the side, and Renly eyed them all a little longingly.

“No thank you,” he said politely though. They’d already established that Loras wasn’t drinking tonight and he didn’t want to undermine him by drinking himself.

Loras saw him looking though and he rolled his eyes. “Go on,” he laughed. “Have one.”

Renly grinned, his eyes already on a vivid green cocktail that he suspected was mint. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Loras said, giving Renly a nudge towards the waiter. “Enjoy yourself. You don’t have to be teetotal on my behalf. As long as you’re not vomiting over the side, I’m sure I’ll cope.”

Renly’s hands were on the green one before Loras had even stopped speaking. “You going to have one yourself?” he asked.

Loras looked a little wistfully at the tray. “I shouldn’t really.”

It was Renly who nudged Loras this time. “Oh go on,” he laughed. “It’s your birthday. I’m here. I’m not going to let you vomit over the side either.”

Loras took a bright red one with a strawberry garnish, grabbing it quickly, as if he feared he’d change his mind.

“So what’s yours?” Renly asked, taking a long drink of his own. He’d been right about it being mint. He supposed the mint leaves floating in it should have been a dead giveaway.

“Think it’s a Strawberry Daiquiri,” Loras said after a taste. He passed the glass to Renly so that he could try it, waving away Renly’s attempt to hand him the mint one in exchange.

“It’s nice,” Renly agreed once he’d taken a sip. Indeed, he was reluctant to hand the strawberry concoction back. He’d have quite liked to drink both his and Loras’ drinks.

Loras seized it back despite his reluctance though. “Am I allowed a proper cigarette too?” he asked.

Renly grinned and gave him a gentle nudge. “Don’t push it,” he warned with a laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Loras took a long drink from his glass, moving back to stand by the railings so they could look over the sea. For a good few minutes, they stood there together, drinks in hand as they watched the waves. It might have been romantic, Renly thought, had it not been for the thumping music in the background.

Eventually though, their drinks were empty and Loras was tugging on his hand, a sour expression on his face.

“I need to find some water,” he said with a grimace. “That daiquiri was a bad idea.”

Renly regarded him curiously. “Surely it hasn’t got you drunk?” he asked. The drink had been deceptively strong but not that strong.

Loras narrowed his eyes at him. “How old you think I am today? Five?

Renly just smiled innocently at him. “Too sweet then?” he guessed.

Loras made a face. “Like how I’d imagine your Sansa would taste,” he agreed.

Renly laughed at that and followed Loras inside where he clearly hoped they’d find some water. It was even more packed in here and probably because it was where the bar was, everyone seemed to be yet more drunk. There were several people collapsed over the black marble tables, their friends feeding them bread in a too late attempt to sober them up, and one person even had their head under the champagne fountain, lapping at the fizzy mixture like a dog.

“Well I think I’ll be sticking to cocktails for the rest of the evening,” Renly said with a grimace.

Loras just nodded, steering them over to the bar where there were already glasses of water lined up- presumably for the people who were so drunk that they couldn’t stand.

Renly’s first warning that something was wrong was Loras reaching for his hand. Turning, he could see exactly what it was that had made Loras uncomfortable. There were a large group of people crowded around one of the marble table tops and Renly didn’t need to ask what they were doing.

He was, however, a little bemused. He’d never supposed people to use so openly; he’d always imagined this sort of thing would go on covertly in the bathrooms. Loras didn’t seem surprised though and so Renly supposed this was just how the rich and famous behaved.

“Coke?” he asked as he watched one girl make a neat line on the table. He wondered whether this was the reason the marble tables tops were all black. The white powder made quite a contrast.

Loras watched for a few moments before he answered. “No,” he said. “Probably MDMA.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that one’s dissolving it in her drink.” He pointed to a girl in a sequined black dress.

Renly nodded. “And you can’t do that with coke.”

Loras took a while to answer. “I wouldn’t,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t taste very nice, and it’s an anaesthetic. Makes your mouth go numb. Would be a huge waste.”

Renly ignored the longing in his voice and looked back at the girl. She was grimacing as she drained her spiked drink and for a moment Renly thought her about to retch.

“Apparently MDMA doesn’t taste very nice either,” he laughed.

Loras didn’t answer. He was still looking wistfully at the group of friends. It was easy to guess what was running through his mind and Renly felt a little sorry for him. Destructive as the habit had been, he could only imagine what it would be like to give up something you loved. He’d have floundered if anyone had asked him to give up nice food or sex.

“Come on,” he sighed, pulling him away. “We should go back outside.”

Loras nodded. He’d apparently forgotten about needing to get a drink of water and Renly didn’t remind him. He thought it best they simply get out.

They were stopped on the way out though by a very excited looking Arianne.  
She looked as glamorous as she always did, in towering heels that Renly was surprised she could walk in on a yacht. She gave both of them a kiss on the cheek.

“You two still here?” she asked. “I thought you’d have long turned in for the night.” She winked at Loras.

Renly laughed, tightening his grip on Loras’ hand. “Not yet,” he said.

“Well when you do,” she purred. “Perhaps you’d fancy letting me join?”

Renly had to laugh at that but Loras merely looked a little awkward. He clearly didn’t find the idea that amusing.

“What?” Arianne protested. “The two of you are hot.”

Loras just rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a rather hefty nudge that made her wobble on her heels.

“What?” she protested again. “I bet you can’t keep your hands off him, can you Renly? I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Grinning, Renly wrapped an arm around him, kissing the top of his head. Loras had turned a little pink but there was a small smile on his face under the embarrassment too. Renly was glad that Arianne had said what she had. He reckoned that Loras needed the self-esteem boost nowadays.

“So, Renly…” she whispered, moving closer to them. “Give me all the gossip. Does he fuck you or does he let you fuck him?”

Loras’ cheeks flushed even darker.

Arianne laughed. “Ha. I knew it.” She pinched Loras’ cheek. “Aww look how shy he is.” She turned to Renly. “You should be proud of yourself. He’s so fierce and you’ve domesticated him.”

Loras grimaced. “Ignore her,” he said. “Arianne clearly thinks I’m a dog, or a horse.”

Renly grinned. “Could I make you do tricks?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Don’t you side with her,” he warned.

Renly was just about to snip something back when a vibrating in his pocket made him reach for his phone. Peering at it under the dazzling lights, he was surprised to see that it was an English landline number he didn’t recognise.

“Loras,” he said, climbing the steps so that he was properly outside. “Will you be alright with Arianne for a moment?”

“Sure.”

Renly picked up and had to roll his eyes when he heard who it was. “Loras,” he called. “Why’s your phone not on?”

Loras shrugged, climbing the steps to join him. “It’s in our room.”

“Well your sister has apparently been trying to get hold of you for hours.”

“Oh.” Loras practically snatched the phone from him. Renly was glad to let him take it. Margaery had been very cordial and almost apologetic on the phone but Renly was well aware that she wasn’t his biggest fan.

“Well I’ll just wait for you here, shall I?” Renly called after him. He was unsurprised when he got no answer. Even in the near darkness he could see that Loras was smiling. It was the widest smile that Renly thought he’d ever seen on his face and Renly couldn’t help but be a little stung. Loras hadn’t smiled that much when _he’d_ wished him a Happy Birthday.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Arianne’s hand on his arm. “Come have a drink,” she said. “Loras tells me you’re fond of expensive alcohol.”

“Well yeah,” Renly laughed. “But I shouldn’t leave him.” He glanced back warily at Loras who was just reached the bow of the boat where it was probably a little quieter.

“Oh he’ll be fine,” Arianne laughed. “It’s his sister. He’ll be there for like half an hour.”

“Fair point,” Renly conceded as he let her lead him back inside- through a different entrance this time which was less crowded. The man lapping at the champagne fountain had stopped but Renly still gave it a wide berth- he didn’t want to think about how many germs were being recycled through it right now.

The cocktails at the bar looked perfectly sanitary though and Renly helped himself to a bright orange one this time, drinking it happily as Arianne filled him in as to who was here.

It was only when his second glass was empty that Renly went back to check on Loras. He was unsurprised to find him where he’d left him, still nattering away on the phone.

“Loras,” he said, tapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll be at the bar inside when you’re done.”

Nodding, Loras turned back to face the sea. Renly left him to it then and returned to Arianne and her friends. This time he had a vivid blue cocktail with a chunk of pineapple on the side and then a purple one that Arianne pressed into his hands before flitting away to join another group of people.

He stopped at the fifth drink, thinking that he should probably stop before the alcohol actually went to his head, and when he glanced at the clock, he was surprised to see that Loras had been on the phone for forty five minutes. That seemed a long time even for Loras and his sister and Renly wandered back out onto the deck. He couldn’t help but worry that Loras had misheard him.

He was even more worried when he reached the bow of the yacht and found that there was no figure stood by the railings.

He was just beginning to panic a little when a young woman tapped him on the shoulder. “You literally just missed him,” she said. “He went off that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction Renly had just come but at a door that also led into the bar.

Renly ran a hand through his hair wearily, wishing he’d just stayed where he was.  
  


* * *

 

 

Renly spent the next hour looking for Loras. He met quite a few people who told him that Loras was apparently looking for him and Renly didn’t know what to do. The problem was that the decks were oval shaped and that the bar was huge. Renly supposed that they could walk in circles forever and never find each other.

Eventually though, one of Arianne’s friends caught his arm. “Arianne and Loras were looking for you,” she said. “He didn’t look too happy.”

Renly bit his lip. He was torn between asking for more details and remaining blissfully ignorant. “Do you know where they went?” he asked.

“Yeah I think they went back to your room.”

That made Renly’s heart sink. There was only one reason he could see Arianne retiring from her party and it didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. Renly thanked the girl as brightly as he could though before hurrying off after them.

The section of the yacht that contained the bedrooms was behind a locked door and as such was blissfully quiet, the thump of the bass only a very distant rumble that you felt through your chest if you stood very still. All the same, Renly could feel no real relief. It was with some trepidation that he knocked on the door to his own bedroom.

It was Arianne who came out. She looked rather abashed and Renly didn’t need to ask what was wrong.

“It’s my fault,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have let you leave him.”

Renly gulped. He didn’t see the point assigning blame. “Is he alright?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “He’s fine. Just angry with himself and very worried about what you’re going to say.”

“I can imagine,” Renly mumbled. Relief coursed through his veins though to hear that Loras was otherwise alright. He ran a hand through his hair. “Go on then, I’ll take him from here.”

He made to pass her but Arianne remained in the doorway. “Actually,” she said hesitantly. “He’s decided he doesn’t want to see you.”

Renly winced. He felt as if he’d been slapped across the face. “What?”

Arianne sighed heavily, shifting a little on her very tall heels. “Something about promising you that you wouldn’t have to deal with him if he was an idiot and did exactly this?”

Renly bit back a sigh. He remembered Loras promising exactly that during their flight back from Sweden and yet he didn’t care. “Well you can tell him he’s still being an idiot,” he said quietly. “He’s mine to deal with.”

Arianne nodded. “Tell him yourself then,” she said. She patted Renly on the arm, her eyes wide. “I really am sorry. He promised me he’d be fine.”

Renly just shrugged. “I guess he thought he would be,” he murmured. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

Loras was sat on the floor when he came in and Renly didn’t think he’d ever looked more pitiful. He’d tucked himself into the gap between the wardrobe and the wall and he seemed determined to stare angrily at his knees. Renly had wondered whether he’d be angry himself, but looking at him now, he just felt rather sad.

“Come on, Loras,” he sighed. “Off the floor.”

Loras just continued to stare at his knees. He was furious; that much was obvious. Renly knew that anger wasn’t directed at him though; it was directed well and truly at himself.

Kneeling down on the plush carpet, Renly dragged him up onto his knees. It wasn’t easy anymore like it had been when he was ill but eventually Renly hauled him to his feet.

Loras didn’t say anything as Renly led him to the bed and sat him down. Shame as well as anger was radiating off him now and he refused to look Renly in the eye as he climbed under the covers.

“Come here,” Renly sighed as he sat down next to him. “I’m here now. It’s going to be alright.”

Loras just gritted his teeth and stared at the bedclothes.

“Look,” Renly said, placing a hand on his arm. “There’s no point beating yourself up. It’s done now.”

Loras looked up. “Aren’t you angry?” he mumbled. “I would be if I were you.”

Renly shrugged. He wasn’t angry; at least he didn’t think he was. He knew he’d have been _furious_ if Loras had been defensive about what he’d done or if he’d insisted it wasn’t a big deal, but there wasn’t anything about seeing Loras miserable that made him angry. He supposed it had been Loras’ attitude that had infuriated him last time, not so much his actions.

“I told you,” he said softly. “There’s no point being angry.” Sighing, he pulled Loras to him, wincing a little as he felt how hard his heart was thumping in his chest. “And before you ask, no I’m not going anywhere.”

Loras raised his head and this time he didn’t look quite so distressed. “Yeah?” he whispered.

Renly reached up to tuck a stray curl back behind Loras’ hair. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Course I’m not.” He managed a rather strained laugh. “I don’t scare that easily.”

Loras didn’t smile but he did loop his arms around Renly’s neck and allow Renly to pull him close. “I looked for you,” he said quietly. “For ages. I didn’t mean to be an idiot. I was just in a good mood. Margaery had told me some great news and I had a few drinks to celebrate and…“

“You just got side-tracked?” Renly offered gently.

Loras said nothing, and as he stroked his hair, Renly couldn’t help but feel very guilty. He should have kept Loras in sight- shouldn’t have been so complacent. He’d known Loras had been worrying about this evening and he felt rather like he had let him down.

“What we’re you celebrating?” Renly asked.

Loras raised his head and he did manage a very small smile this time. “Garlan’s girlfriend’s expecting a baby.”

Renly had never met Garlan’s girlfriend but he smiled all the same. “Well that’s great,” he agreed. “You’re going to be an uncle.”

“Yeah,” Loras agreed. “Guess so.”

They fell back into silence after that, Renly just stroking his hair slowly. He was surprised at how together Loras seemed and yet he supposed that cocaine wasn’t a drug that clouded your senses. If anything, it was supposed to make you much more alert. Indeed, if it wasn’t for his racing pulse, Renly wouldn’t have known anything was wrong. With that in mind, he supposed he should be pleasantly surprised that Loras had even told him; he could easily have got away with keeping Renly in the dark.

“Do you need anything?” Renly asked after a while.

Loras shook his head.

“ _Want_ anything?”

Loras began to shake his head again but changed his mind. “Yeah,” he said. “Valium.”

Renly duly got up off the bed. “Will Arianne have some?”

Loras nodded, burrowing further into the covers.

Renly didn’t even bother trying to find Arianne. He just found the nearest crew member and told him what he wanted. It didn’t take the man long to run and come back with a small packet of tablets. He was clearly even used to this, for he even brought a glass of water to take them with too.

Loras had put his pyjamas on when Renly came back in, and this time Renly locked the door behind him. It felt rather satisfying, like he was locking the world out. It felt even better when he was able to climb into bed and pull the curtains around them. It felt safe somehow, like he and Loras were in their own purple-tinted world.

“Here you go,” Renly said softly, trying not to spill the glass of water as he clambered under the covers to sit next to Loras.

Loras opened the packet and took two, handing the glass of water to Renly for him to finish after he was done with it. He seemed more relaxed now that he’d taken his tablets, and climbing slightly awkwardly over him, he settled himself between Renly’s legs with his head on his chest.

Twenty minutes later Renly started seeing the difference that the tablets had made. His heartrate was back to normal and he was limper in Renly’s arms, more at ease. There was still shame etched onto every inch of his face though and that near broke Renly’s heart. He could only guess how terrible Loras felt.

“It’s going to be alright,” Renly murmured, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll take you home tomorrow and we’re going to get you any more help you need.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to go back to rehab?”

Loras tucked himself a little further into the crook of Renly’s neck. “Do _you_ want me to?”

Renly paused, his hand halfway to Loras’ hair. His gut instinct was to say that he did want him to go and yet he wondered if it was rather unnecessary. He suspected that Loras would probably be alright once he was back at home and there was a return to normality. “You know yourself best, Loras,” he said eventually. “Do you think you need to?”

“No,” Loras whispered, eyes closed now. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?”

Loras raised his head a little. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’ll be fine when we’re back home. It was just a mistake in coming here, bit off more than I could chew.”

Renly had to smile a little wryly. He wasn’t sure whether he’d ever heard Loras admit he’d made a mistake so easily before. “Don’t blame yourself entirely,” he murmured. “I should have looked after you better. I could see you didn’t want to be left by yourself.”

Loras just shrugged. “Stop it,” he mumbled. “I can’t expect you to watch me all the time.”

Renly wrapped an arm round him. “I will next time,” he promised.

Loras was quiet for a while. “There’s not going to be a next time,” he said eventually, eyes closing again as he leant back against Renly’s chest. “I’ve had it with parties. From now on I’m just going to stay at home with you.”

Renly just nodded and wrapped his arms back around him. “Whatever you want,” he murmured.


	92. Chapter 92

Renly had been hoping that Loras might come and stay with him for a while once they were back in London but he was left disappointed. Loras had talked about the idea several times on the plane but when it came down to it, he chose to go home to his flat in Shoreditch as soon as they were through Passport Control. Renly supposed he could understand why; he suspected Loras craved normality more than anything else.

He was subdued all week though and even though Renly dropped round his flat every day after work, he refused to go anywhere with him- not even just for a drive in the car. All in all, Renly was glad that the theatre tickets he’d booked weren’t for a couple of weeks. He imagined that Loras would have gone to please him but he didn’t think it would have been much fun- not when Loras was so insistent on wallowing in his failure.

When Thursday came round again though, Renly decided he’d had enough. Loras had had a week now to cheer up and his refusal to do so wasn’t good for either of them. It was getting them both down.

He knocked on Loras’ front door with purpose, his sleeves rolled up and ready for action. He was a little wrong footed though when he was met with silence. The dog had a habit of sitting on the seat in the bay window and watching for passers-by; usually she barked as soon as he was on the front step.

There was soon the sound of footsteps though and Loras opened the door. He was in his pyjamas despite it being almost seven and Renly knew that he would have been in them all day. He was not impressed.

“Hey,” he laughed though, thinking he’d voice his opinions when he was safely in the door. “Where’s the dog?”

“Oh,” Loras ran a hand through his hair. “I sent her to the vet to get spayed this morning. She’s still a bit drowsy.”

“Spayed?” Renly followed him in, slinging his jacket carelessly over the coat stand.

“So she can’t have puppies,” Loras explained.

“Oh.” Renly nodded along. “But puppies are cute.”

Loras shrugged. “Bitches in heat aren’t.”

Renly didn’t know anything about that but he supposed that if they were anything like women with PMS, he could sympathise. Sansa was rather good natured all the time but Robert moaned about Cersei all the time. Apparently she turned into a devil at certain times of the month; although how this made her different from how she was the rest of the month Renly wasn’t sure.

“You’re surely not still in bed?” Renly asked, looking pointedly at Loras’ pyjamas. He’d hardly ever seen Loras in pyjamas when they’d first gone out. They’d been items of clothing that had only come out when Loras was sick or when he’d been relegated to sleeping on the sofa. Now, however, they were all Renly ever seemed to see Loras in. He wondered whether that said something about their relationship.

Loras just shrugged though. “Didn’t feel like getting up.”

Renly resisted the urge to sigh. “Well why don’t you get up now then?” he suggested. “While I make a well-deserved coffee.”

Loras just made a face at the suggestion. He trudged back into his bedroom silently and Renly knew without asking that he was going to ignore Renly’s prodding for him to get dressed entirely and just get back into bed.

Indeed, by the time that Renly came in with his coffee, Loras had climbed back under the covers. Ophelia was curled up against his side and she looked just as subdued as he did. Renly figured that at least she had an excuse though.

“God you’re a sorry pair,” Renly sighed, sitting down gently on the end of the bed. Ophelia seemed to want to greet him then and she got up to her feet. She was very wobbly though and Loras coaxed her gently back down. She settled eventually for whining pitifully and thumping her tail against the duvet.

“She wants you to come and stroke her,” Loras said.

Renly moved closer, trying not to jog the bed too much. Gently, he stroked the dog’s ears, liking how silky they were under his fingertips. “So,” he said, turning to Loras. “Want to go driving with me tonight? Been a while since you practised.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “Not really.”

“But you need to practise,” Renly argued. “You’ve got your theory next week and you want to pass before you start college, don’t you? It’s already almost July.”

Loras said nothing.

“Well?” Renly prompted. He sat up straight to look Loras in the eye. He didn’t like how quiet Loras was being; it was disconcerting.

“Yeah about that,” Loras mumbled, fiddling absent-mindedly with his covers. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Renly frowned. “About learning to drive?”

“No,” Loras said, “about college.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. He didn’t like this sort of talk; it was defeatist and unhelpful. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Loras raised his head. “I mean that I don’t want to go,” he said bluntly. There was a little aggression in his tone as if he were daring Renly to have a problem with that.

Sighing, Renly reached over the dog for his hand. He did have a problem with that. “You’re being silly now,” he told him, squeezing his fingers. “You have to go. You _want_ to go.”

Loras looked down at their hands. “No I don’t,” he said shortly. “I told you, I’m going to stay at home from now on.”

Renly chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn’t really know what to say. “Well you can’t do that forever,” he pointed out.

Loras narrowed his eyes at him. “Well why not?”

“You just can’t,” Renly laughed wryly. “You’d be bored to tears. You need to live your life, Loras. You can’t just stay shut up because you feel safe here.”

“Well I do feel safe here,” Loras mumbled. He pulled his hand out of Renly’s and closed his fingers round Ophelia’s collar. “And I’m not saying I’m not going to go out ever. I’m just saying I think this college is a bad idea.”

Renly folded his arms across his chest. “And why’s that?”

“Because it’ll mainly be young people there.”

“I’m a young person,” Renly pointed out indignantly. He wasn’t _quite_ over the hill yet. Indeed, since he’d dated Jon he’d had a new-found appreciation for how young he still was. It had been perhaps the only benefit of having a boyfriend that much older than himself.

Loras rolled his eyes. “You’re twenty-eight going on twenty-nine, Ren. Most the students will be eighteen, nineteen, twenty at best. What were you like ten years ago?”

Renly wanted to contradict him and prove him wrong but it would have been a lie. Barely a day had gone by at university where he hadn’t had a drink; his life had been an endless circle of drinking, hungover essay writing and yet more drinking. There were significant portions of first year that he couldn’t remember because he’d drunk so much.

“Well I was a perpetual alcoholic,” Renly admitted with a sigh.

“Exactly,” Loras sniffed. “And I can’t deal with that.”

“But I was one of the worst,” Renly pointed out. “They’ll be other people there. People less, well less…”

“Cool?” Loras supplied.

Renly sighed. That hadn’t been the word he’d been searching for but it did the job. “However you want to put it,” he conceded. “But there’ll be normal people who don’t drink. I promise you. It’s actually quite fashionable now to be teetotal. And I was an idiot whilst at university.”

Loras just shrugged.

“Now come on,” Renly said, thinking they ought to change the subject. “I’m sick of you sulking. It’s not good for you to hole yourself up like this. So tomorrow we are going out and that’s final.”

Loras screwed his face up. “I’m really not in the mood, Ren. I’m tired more than anything.”

Renly bit back a sigh. He clearly wasn’t lying when he said he was tired. Renly knew even without staying over that Loras wasn’t sleeping well again. He supposed that was what stress did to you when you were half an insomniac already.

“Then we’ll go to your parents,” Renly said. “They wouldn’t mind. And your sister’s there at the moment, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she is...” Loras sounded hesitant though and Renly got the feeling that he’d rather just stay here and mope. He wasn’t sure either whether Loras had told Margaery yet about what had happened over his birthday.

“Well we’re going then, Renly decided. “It’ll be good for you.”

 

* * *

 

 

They set off on Friday evening and Renly knew immediately that he’d been right to suggest that they go. Loras was in better spirits as soon as they were out of London and heading south. Renly had let him drive down on the A-roads and he reckoned that it was doing him a world of good. It gave him something else to focus on, for at least when he was ignoring the speed limit on every road he used, he was thinking about something other than his lapse in judgement last week.

Renly, however, would have been lying if he said he’d enjoyed the journey much. Loras drove far too fast- regardless of how often Renly told him to slow down- and he overtook recklessly. He never hit anything and nor did he seem to regret any of his decisions behind the wheel, but Renly wanted to lean over and throttle him often.

He might have done too if he hadn’t had Ophelia and her basket on his lap. She was still sore apparently and Renly was in charge of making sure that she didn’t move too much. It wasn’t a very difficult job; to Renly’s relief she’d curled up and gone to sleep as soon as they’d set off. At first, he’d found it rather awkward with her on his lap though; he’d been constantly worrying about jogging her or hurting her. Now, however, he was rather grateful for her presence. Stroking her gave him something to do when Loras was busy overtaking lorries on bends.

He only relaxed when the signs for Highgarden started appearing, his fingers loosening their rather desperate grip on Ophelia’s collar.

“Well that was one way to put how terrifying your sister is into perspective,” Renly laughed as Loras took them down the narrow lane that would take him home.

Loras just rolled his eyes. “We’re okay, aren’t we? Still alive.”

Renly snorted. “Well I think I lost my will to live right about Maidstone but yeah, sure.”

“Ha. Very funny.”

“Well it’s true,” Renly protested.

Loras swivelled round to face him. “Well you’ll shut up and tell my parents I drove very nicely or I’ll set my sister on you. Tell her you threatened to ditch me or something.”

Renly grimaced. Just the thought made him quiver with fear. “Please don’t.”

Loras grinned at him, apparently unbothered by the road in front of him. “I won’t,” he laughed. “I like you too much to see you get torn to pieces.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well thanks,” he muttered. He waited until Loras had his eyes firmly back on the road before he dared speak again. “But seriously now, Loras. Talking of what you tell or don’t tell Margaery, will you tell her about last week?”

Loras paused, fingers tapping the steering wheel in what was clearly a sign of his agitation. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “I will. She was like you. Thought I shouldn’t go.”

Renly resisted the urge to say I told you so. “Well you live and you learn,” he sighed.

Loras nodded.

They were turning into Highgarden now and so Renly let him focus on the road. For perhaps the first time in Renly’s memory, the gates were open. The gamekeeper was still stood beside them though, clad as ever in his tweed jacket and cap, and although he raised a smile for Loras, he eyed Renly beadily as they went through.

“I hate that man,” Renly muttered, resisting the urge to sink down lower in his seat and out of sight. He might have done too if it hadn’t been for Ophelia on his lap and the fact that the floor of Arya’s Panda was as filthy as she often was.

“Tarly?” Loras laughed.

“I don’t know his name. I just know I hate him.” Renly loosened his hold on Ophelia. “Can I give him the finger?”

Loras shrugged. “If you like,” he said. “I’m not keen on him either really.”

Grinning, Renly twisted round a little so that he had the man in tweed back in view. He tried to summon the courage to give him the finger and swiftly failed.

“Coward.”

Renly just rolled his eyes. It was only when the man had turned his back that he dared swear at him. It clearly didn’t count as any act of rebellion but it made him feel better all the same. He still remembered being told that Loras didn’t want to see him far too clearly, and whilst it probably would have made more sense to resent Loras for that, it was easier to hate the stern man in tweed who exuded superiority.

Even Renly had to concede that the man was good at his job though. He’d evidently phoned ahead and Garlan was waiting for them outside the house He was just as bouncy as he always was; impending fatherhood obviously suited him.

“God,” he said, raising an eyebrow when he saw Loras getting out of the driver’s seat and Renly out of the passenger side. “Surprised you two are still alive with that maniac behind the wheel.”

“Me too,” Renly laughed, lifting the dog gently down to the ground. He then winced as Loras stamped on his foot. “I mean, why would you say that? Your brother drives like an angel.”

Garlan laughed, bending to pat Ophelia. She clearly recognised both Highgarden and Garlan and her tail was wagging madly. It took Loras scooping her back up before she calmed down a little. She evidently knew that Loras took no nonsense.

Garlan gave her ears one last scratch. “Let’s get this invalid in then” he grinned, pushing a hand through his rather wild curls. He turned back to Loras and Renly. “You’ve missed dinner but mum’s made cake.”

Renly’s ears perked up at the mention of cake but he couldn’t help but shift a little uncomfortably at the prospect of Loras’ family. He’d met Loras’ parents before and it hadn’t been good. He’d yet to meet them while he and Loras were dating though and although he liked to _think_ that it would be less awkward now that they were actually a couple, he wasn’t particularly hopeful. It didn’t help either that Margaery was around. The last time Renly had seen her, she’d suggested that they make a new start but Renly wasn’t quite sure it worked like that. You couldn’t just force water under the bridge.

He followed Loras and Garlan in with a smile though. It was him who’d suggested that they come and he would do his best with Margaery. He had to for Loras’ sake.

“So Loras tells me your girlfriend is expecting a baby,” Renly said to Garlan as they were ushered inside.

“Yeah,” Garlan grinned, taking their coats from them and throwing them over an old chair in the hall as if he didn’t care that Loras’ was probably worth several thousand. “She’s three months along now. We could finally tell people.”

Loras’ smile was almost as wide as Garlan’s. “Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy yet?” he asked. His excitement was tangible and Renly couldn’t help but contrast it with his own indifference when his nephews and nieces had been born.

“It’s too early to know for sure, but the doctor reckons it’s a boy,” Garlan told them, pushing the kitchen door open with his foot. He was beaming proudly; a boy was clearly what he’d hoped for.

The rest of the Tyrells were sat at the kitchen table but only Loras’ parents and Margaery got up to greet them, Willas just giving them a wave and the shrivelled old lady just peering at them with her beady little eyes. There was another dog in here too, presumably Ophelia’s mother, and Loras put her back on the floor so that they could greet each other.

Renly couldn’t help but run a hand anxiously through his hair as he surveyed the room. He’d spent the entire journey worrying about Margaery but he wondered now whether he’d been fearing the wrong person. Loras’ grandmother’s gaze was so piercing that he suspected she knew every crime he’d ever committed, from spitting in Joffrey’s baby food to screwing Loras over one too many times.

Loras must have known though that Renly was nervous around his family, for he took Renly’s hand before they went any further. He had a wide smile on his face too and that made Renly feel a lot better. Loras was clearly proud of him despite any reservations that his sister or grandmother had. Indeed, he was gripping Renly’s hand as if he couldn’t wait to show him off and he didn’t let go at all while everyone greeted them. He looked very much like the cat that had got the cream and Renly had to wonder what he’d ever done to merit Loras being so pleased with him.

All in all, Renly realised very quickly that he needn’t have bothered being nervous. Everyone was very nice. His mother fussed over them both, offering them food even though they’d had a large meal before they left; Loras’ father remembered his name for once, and even Margaery must have been serious about them getting off on a better foot this time because she managed a very sincere smile.

Indeed, Renly found himself wondering why he’d worried at all as he sat round the large kitchen table eating cake. Most of the talk was about the new baby even though Garlan’s girlfriend wasn’t here and that left Renly free to sit quietly next to Loras and enjoy his food. It was only when Loras’ siblings asked him how his birthday had been that Renly felt he had to pay attention and he turned swiftly to Loras to see how he would answer that.

“It was… _okay_ ,” Loras said hesitantly, scratching his head.

Garlan nodded happily, evidently satisfied with that answer. Willas and Margaery, however, stiffened a little in their chairs. Both were clearly worried and Margaery even glanced at Renly as if he might clarify what Loras meant.

Renly refused to meet her eye. He didn’t want to get involved with what Loras did or didn’t tell his family. It wasn’t really any of his business. He was very glad when Margaery looked away and even gladder when neither she nor Willas pushed Loras for more details.

“Actually Loras,” Willas said, changing the subject swiftly in what Renly thought was the best decision of the century. “At some point, I was wondering if you’d be able to help me out with one of the horses.”

Loras looked immediately more comfortable. “When, why, what?” he asked.

Willas helped himself to another piece of cake before he answered. “One of the neighbours wants to buy one of our horses for her daughter,” he explained. “I want to know she’s safe.”

“Her daughter?” The smile was gone off Loras’ face and he looked sceptically up at Willas. “How old is she?”

“Twelve but competent, or so I’m told.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Twelve?” he asked. “You mean a pony then.” He sounded rather dismissive; apparently ponies weren’t worthy of respect.

“Yes, a _pony,_ ” Willas agreed with a fond shake of his head as if he’d known Loras wouldn’t take him seriously. “A nice one though. Arabian. Would have been perfect for you as a child.”

Loras still didn’t look convinced. “How big?”

“Just under thirteen.”

Loras frowned, pushing a piece of uneaten cake around on his plate. “Why not Margaery then? She’s much more suitable.”

“Because she’s used to Margaery,” Willas said. “I need someone unfamiliar on her and Garlan’s far far too heavy. But I’m not asking you to do it now though. Any time before Sunday really.” He looked imploringly over at his youngest brother.

“Alright then,” Loras sighed. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “But I might as well do it now. It’s not like I can spend any real time on her.”

Willas looked grateful. “If you like,” he said. “Margaery can show you where she is and I’ll meet you down there.”

Loras nodded and turned to Renly. “I’ll only be half an hour or so. Want to unpack while you’re waiting?”

“No way,” Renly laughed. “I want to watch.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “Come down with Willas when he’s ready then. But it won’t be very interesting.” Rising to his feet, he took his sister’s hand and disappeared out of the door with her.

Renly and Willas made their way leisurely down to the stables, Willas limping along with his stick. Garlan came with them too but only as far as a small cottage which was apparently where he and Leonette lived. It was a beautiful cottage, with roses trailing up the stonework and an apple tree in the front garden, and Renly thought it belonged on a postcard. He’d never known though that Garlan lived separately from his other siblings.

“So he and Leonette don’t live at the main house then?” Renly asked as Garlan disappeared through the cottage’s front door with a wave.

“No,” Willas said, picking his way rather slowly through the gravel. “They’d rather be by themselves.”

Renly laughed. _By themselves_ was a very large overstatement, he thought. They were barely a hundred yards from the main house. “I can’t imagine living so close to my family,” he admitted.

Willas smiled. “Yes,” he chuckled. “Well Leonette’s parents own the farm next door so they’re very much surrounded.”

Renly made a face and shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets. He wondered a little grimly if someday down the line Loras would expect them to come and live next door to his parents too. As nice as they were, he didn’t imagine he’d be keen.

They’d come now to a large arena. It was presumably the riding school if the letters round the side and the show jumps were anything to go by and Renly hurried to open the gate for Willas. There was a chair in the middle of the ring and Willas limped over to it, sitting heavily down.

There was a small sort of shelter on the side too and Renly sat down on the bench there, wondering how much longer Loras and Margaery were going to be. They’d already been a rather long time and Renly had to wonder whether Loras was telling Margaery the truth about how his birthday had gone. He suspected that he probably was. He knew first-hand how poor Loras was at keeping things from his sister. He always caved sooner or later.

Indeed, it was a good five minutes before the pair of them appeared, Loras leading a small horse and Margaery skipping alongside him. Even in the failing light Renly could see that it was a handsome creature. It was small like Willas had said but its dark brown coat was glossy and thick.

Loras led it into the middle while Margaery slipped through the rungs in the fence to where Renly was sat. There was evidently a light switch that Renly hadn’t noticed in the shelter and she flicked it on now, large floodlights crackling into life above them. They illuminated her face rather well and Renly was unsurprised to see that her expression was rather solemn. He wondered again what they’d been talking about. She didn’t say anything though as she sat down next to him and so Renly turned back to watch Loras.

“How’s she taking it?” Willas was saying. Loras was in the saddle now and he was bent over to one side adjusting the strap around the horse’s middle.

“She’s a bit surprised,” Loras said, fiddling still with something that Renly couldn’t see. “But she’s alright.”

He sat up straight in the saddle then and Renly had to laugh. He didn’t know anything about horses but even he could see that Loras was far too tall for this one. He looked oversized on her, like he was going to topple off at any point. He hadn’t bothered changing either and his clothes looked too nice to be sitting on a horse.

“So what do you want me to do?” Loras asked Willas. “Best make this quick as I’m heavy.”

Willas gestured to the edge of the ring with his cane. “Just walk her round for the moment. Warm her up.”

Loras rolled his eyes as if he thought that boring but he obliged without even a word of protest. Slowly, he took the horse round the edge of the ring.

“Nervy isn’t she?” he commented as they came up to one of the corners. He didn’t seem too bothered about that though and Renly could see that he barely had the reins in his hands.

“She doesn’t like the corners,” Willas admitted. “And she won’t like Renly and Margaery sat there either.”

Renly looked up. “Do you want us to move?”

“No,” Loras and Willas said at the same time.

Shrugging, Renly settled down to watch. He quickly found that it actually _was_ as boring as Loras had said it would be though and he had to wonder whether he should have taken up Loras’ offer of unpacking while he did this. The only interesting bits were when Loras took the horse past them and she skittered nervously, her ears pressed back against her head. At least then Renly got to cross his fingers and hope she wasn’t going to bolt and throw Loras off.

She never did though and so Renly turned to Margaery once Loras was back out of earshot. “Was he telling you about last week earlier?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” Margaery breathed, throwing a nervous glance at Loras’ back. “He’s really upset about it. Properly ashamed.”

Renly resisted the urge to scowl; he didn’t need Margaery to tell him about how Loras was feeling. “I know,” he agreed. “That’s why I suggested we come here. He was just sulking back in London.”

Margaery nodded. “Well it’s hard for him,” she insisted. “He’s not good with failure.”

Renly laughed. “You don’t say.”

Margaery smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “You know,” she said quietly. “He said he was so sure you’d leave him.”

Renly shrugged. It hadn’t actually occurred to him to leave Loras really, not when he’d been so upset. He was just about to tell her this when he spotted Loras coming back up to their end. He quickly shut his mouth.

“Why is he so insistent on taking her past us if she doesn’t like it?” he asked Margaery instead. “I keep thinking she’s going to buck him off or something.”

“So she learns,” Margaery told him bluntly as Loras passed. “She’s a very nervous horse really. I’d be surprised if Willas sells her on Sunday. She’s not a pony for a child. Not yet anyway. Maybe in another few years.”

Renly glanced back at Loras. Now that they were past the shelter, the horse was as calm as anything. It was hard to believe that her ears had been pinned back against her head moments ago. “Will he let the child have a go on her?” he asked.

“Not if he’s not confident she’s suitable.”

Renly thought that rather nice. He reckoned that most people he knew would have sold the pony regardless of whether it was safe or not. He supposed though that Willas didn’t exactly need the money. “So what do you think he’s leaning towards right now?” he asked.

“Hard to tell,” Margaery sighed. “Possibly towards not selling her. Loras is a very confident rider and she’s still a bit spooky. I’m not sure whether she’d tolerate a child and their mistakes.”

Renly nodded along as if he knew about such things. He rather wished that he hadn’t had so much of a city upbringing; this was another world to the one he was used to. “Is she spooky with you?” he asked.

“Yeah she is,” Margaery laughed. “She’s better with Loras actually. He’s very strict. I let her get away with too much really.” A rather guilty expression crept onto her face. “Willas gets annoyed with me actually because I sometimes bend her inwards so that she can’t see anything but the inside of the ring. Loras doesn’t let her do that.”

“And is that good?”

Margaery shrugged. “It gets her desensitised to us sitting here at least. She’s much better now than she was earlier. Not that that’s a huge accomplishment. All sorts of things are scary to horses. A leaf that wasn’t there before or a fence post that’s casting a bit of a strange shadow. You can’t predict everything.”

Renly glanced back at the horse. Loras was walking towards them now and he supposed that the horse looked a little calmer. “He still looks far too big on her though,” he laughed. “Are you sure he’s not hurting her?”

Loras evidently heard that, for he snorted. “She’s fine,” he said when he was close enough not to have to speak up. “She could probably carry you, you know.” He stopped her next to the fence and leant down to pat her neck. “Willas wouldn’t let her and it would be a stupid idea but she could do it if she had to.”

Renly laughed. “If you say so,” he grinned. He knew best of all how heavy he was. It was a family trait, he supposed. All the Baratheon men were built on rather large lines. Even Stannis.

Loras rolled his eyes and continued on, this time crossing the arena to walk past Willas.

“Is he right?” Renly asked once his back was turned.

Margaery smiled fondly. “Yeah,” she said. “She’s fine. Loras is tall but he doesn’t weigh very much. And he’s very balanced which makes it a lot easier for the horse.”

Renly nodded, taking her word for it. To be quite honest, he wasn’t actually sure what Loras weighed nowadays. He’d always hovered around ten stone when they’d first gone out but his weight tended to yo-yo nowadays. He was back to the slimmer end of his weight range at the moment though and Renly reckoned he couldn’t have been much more than eleven stone if that.

Indeed, Loras had pushed the horse into a slow canter now and she didn’t seem to be having any difficulty. Renly found himself a little more impressed. The horse was going at a more satisfying pace now and it seemed as if Loras was glued to the saddle despite how tall he looked on her.

“Isn’t he going to trot?” Renly asked though. He didn’t know much about horses but he knew enough to realise that Loras had just skipped a gait. He’d have thought that important for warming up a horse.

Margaery just chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Guess he doesn’t want to,” she said with a poorly supressed smile.

“Is it because he’s too big for her? Does that make it harder?”

Margaery grinned properly at that. “Hey Loras,” she called. “Renly wants to know why you’re not trotting her.”

Loras just rolled his eyes and took the horse in another circle, deliberately turning away from them and back towards Willas.

Margaery’s smile only widened. “It’s a combination of things,” she explained to Renly. “But mainly it’s because my saddle’s far too small for him and because he doesn’t want to squash anything.”

Renly had to grin too, but not after wincing. “Oh,” he laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine why that might hurt.”

“It depends what sort of underwear he’s wearing,” Margaery clarified with a laugh. “Garlan’s always telling me- even though I really don’t want to know- that boxers _let things move around too much_.”

Renly laughed even though he could see Loras glaring at him. He’d evidently heard and he wasn’t impressed. Renly supposed he could understand why; nobody after all wanted to hear their boyfriend and their sister discussing their underwear choices. He shared a guilty look with Margaery.

“You know what,” Margaery said once Loras was down the other end of the arena again. “I’m glad you’ve decided to stick around.”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked bluntly.

Margaery rolled her eyes. “I told you,” she said. “You’re my brother’s first choice and that means I _have_ to want you to stick around.”

Renly snorted. He still got the feeling that part of Margaery would rather him take a flying leap. He supposed that what he had to understand though was that Margaery probably didn’t actually feel either way about him; she just felt _particularly_ strongly about what was best for Loras.

Do you think you’ll stay together?” she added.

Renly was a little taken aback by that question and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It wasn’t exactly like he could tell her no. “I imagine so,” he said with a shrug. “I _hope_ we will at least.”

Biting back a sigh, he glanced over at Loras as he said that. He preferred really to take it one day at a time. It was hard to see after all where he and Loras would be in a few years- not when they hadn’t even had sex yet. As it stood currently even, Renly supposed that their relationship wasn’t _vastly_ different from how it had been for the past year. He did suspect, however, that that probably had more to do with the fact that they’d been poor at respecting boundaries as friends than any failure on their part now.

Loras saw him watching then and he gave him a smile. He’d evidently forgiven him for making fun of him earlier.

“Yeah,” Renly repeated, returning the smile. “I think we will stay together.”


	93. Chapter 93

Renly reckoned that they were more watched at the theatre than the show was. He’d thought originally that they might be able to slip in and sit unnoticed until the lights were dimmed but he’d been sadly mistaken. As soon as they’d stepped out of the cab, they’d been met by flashing cameras and photographers screaming Loras’ name, throwing question after question at him just to try and get him to look in their direction. It hadn’t been much better inside. The girl lucky enough to have the seats next to them had almost had wet herself when she’d turned around to see Loras sat there and she’d spent the first half of the show working up the courage to ask Loras to take a picture with her and her friend.

She hadn’t been the only one. All through the show people had been snapping away and at one point during the interval the stage manager himself had had to come out and ask people to kindly ignore the fact that they had someone well known in the audience and stop taking pictures.

“I’m sorry,” Renly laughed as they were once again blinded by camera flashes as they left. “I should have booked a box or something.”

Loras shrugged. He didn’t seem fazed and he took Renly’s hand despite the photographers. “The view is shit from boxes,” he said. “And anyway, it would have been just as bad. Worse probably. Boxes are made so that the people in them can be seen.”

Renly nodded. He supposed that that made sense. The sort of people who had originally owned boxes had probably only been going to the theatre in the first place so that the commons would see their new hat or their wife’s new diamond tiara. As petty as it was, Renly didn’t think he’d have been any different if he’d been born several centuries ago.

“Anyway,” Loras asked, refusing to turn his head for any of the photographers calling his name. “How are we getting home?”

Renly smiled. He supposed that that meant they were going home together- something which was always welcome. “Well I was going to suggest we walk back to mine,” he said. “But…” He glanced round at the photographers who were still hot on their heels.

Loras shrugged. “No. If you’d planned on walking then we’ll walk.” Rather forcefully, he took Renly’s arm and steered them through the crowd of photographers.

“Um, Loras,” Renly laughed as he blinked from all the lights.

“What?”

It was one of the paparazzi who answered. “Hey Loras,” he called, clicking away. “Pimlico is that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction with his spare hand.

“Oh.” Much to the bemusement of the photographers around them, Loras did a U-turn. No doubt he’d appear in the Daily Mail tomorrow as a clueless airhead who didn’t know where his boyfriend lived. Renly wasn’t surprised though; Loras’ knowledge of London wasn’t particularly great. He was more surprised actually that the paparazzi knew where he lived off the top of their heads. He’d have thought that they would at least need to look it up or something.

Loras had insisted that they would walk but he only made it ten yards before he hailed down a taxi. He yanked open the door as soon as it stopped and pulled Renly in beside him.

“I thought we were walking?” Renly asked.

“We are,” Loras said bluntly. He leant forward to speak to the taxi driver. “Just take us across the river.”

Renly laughed. Personally, he’d have just conceded defeat now that they were in a car and let themselves be driven home. Loras apparently was determined to prove a point, however.

“Is there somewhere we can cross later?” Loras said.

Renly nodded as the taxi driver took them over Waterloo Bridge, the London Eye lit up ahead of them. “Yeah,” he said, wondering if he should be impressed that Loras knew they’d have to re-cross the river. “Westminster. It’s a nice bridge actually. Great view.”

“Perfect.” They were over the river now and the taxi pulled up on the side of the road, causing much of the traffic behind to sound their horns loudly. Loras didn’t seem bothered though and he merely shoved a twenty pound note in the driver’s hand and nudged Renly to get out.

Renly did as he was bid and to his relief, the pavement was relatively empty when he stepped out of the cab with Loras. They got a few sideways looks from some of the tourists but it was much less intrusive than the paparazzi had been.

“How did they even know we were there?” Renly sighed as he steered them down Southbank. “I mean, obviously anyone in the theatre could have told them _after_ we arrived. But how did they know before?”

Loras took his hand again. “Someone at the theatre will have tipped them off. Seen your name on the booking or on the payment.”

Renly nodded. It had occurred to him not to put Loras’ name on the tickets but it had never crossed his mind to try and conceal his own. “Oh,” he said. “Is that how they always know where someone is then?”

Loras laughed. “Nah,” he said, the warm summer breeze blowing his hair off his face. “Ninety-five percent of the time it’s because the celebrity has tipped them off themselves.”

Renly snorted. “Wow. How lame.”

Loras smiled. “Did you not see that story about Daario Neharis those years ago? He’d shown up at some restaurant or something and the paparazzi were waiting for him. He was all coy and asked how they knew he was going to be there of all places and some photographer in the back announced loudly that it was because his publicist had rung them to give them the address.”

Renly grinned. From what he’d read about the model, Daario Neharis seemed like more of an attention seeker than even the most vain celebrities. “Smooth,” he chuckled.

Loras just laughed. “Everyone’s done it,” he admitted. “And it’s fine when you’re expecting them. It’s more annoying when they catch you by surprise. It can be hard to stay calm then.”

“Well you were awfully calm back there,” Renly laughed. “Considering we were very much _not_ expecting them.”

Loras shrugged. “I’m not always calm,” he admitted with half a smirk. “I’ve never quite punched anyone but there are whole compilations on YouTube of me losing my temper at photographers. I hit one idiot in the face with Margaery’s umbrella once because he tried to take a picture up her skirt.”

Renly laughed. He’d never read about that incident but he wasn’t surprised in the slightest. He imagined that Loras would probably lose his temper with anyone who got too close to his precious sister. The incident that he _did_ remember, however, was when Loras had verbally abused a photographer after that video of him had emerged. That had been in the media for days.

“So what else is on the compilation then?” he asked.

Loras shrugged, grinning a little too much for someone who ought to have been remorseful. “The usual,” he said. “Swearing at them, spraying them with diet coke, pushing them if they get too close.”

“Yeah but a lot of them were probably drug induced right?”

“Sure,” Loras laughed. “Let’s go with that.”

Renly just rolled his eyes. He knew how Loras and his temper could be. He had a short fuse and it didn’t take much to wind him up. He supposed he should be quite surprised to hear that Loras had never outright punched anyone who was irritating him.

They’d reached Westminster Bridge now and Renly paused halfway across to admire the view. Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament were lit up and even though Renly only lived a mile down the road, he still always managed to forget how pretty it was at night. The lights cast shimmering patterns across the water below and the reflections of the buildings all but danced.

“Better than New York?” he asked Loras, putting an arm round his shoulder.

Loras’ smiled, staring down too at the water. “Yeah,” he said. “Much better.”

Renly grinned. He’d always got the feeling that Loras had rather liked New York. He knew that he would have done if he’d had the good luck to live there. The New York skyline was just as impressive as the London one and he’d always been told that the food was great. “How come?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “Well you weren’t in New York for one.”

 

* * *

 

 

It didn’t take them long to cover the mile home and it was barely even eleven by the time they left the river to turn into Renly’s road.

“You coming in?” Renly asked as he fished for his keys in his pocket.

“Course I am,” Loras scoffed. “You don’t think I went through all that just to get a taxi back in the direction I’ve already come, do you?”

Renly grinned, pushing open the door and thinking as usual that he needed to replace the dead pot of flowers he had by the front step. “Where’s Ophelia tonight then?” he asked. He knew full well that Loras would never stay over if the dog was home alone.

“With one of the girls at my management. Not sure which one.”

Renly nodded. He’d never met any of the fabled assistants who worked at Loras’ management but he knew that whenever Loras went out one of them usually came to be with the dog. They had a spare key and if Loras was only going to be a few hours, they stayed with her at Loras’ flat. If he was gone overnight, they took the dog home with them. Renly had no doubt that they loved it. Ophelia was one of those dogs who simply adored people and Renly suspected that they probably very much enjoyed rooting around in Loras’ flat when they knew he wasn’t there. Renly knew that he would if he were in their shoes.

“I always think that’s such a cushy job,” Renly laughed as they climbed the stairs. “I wish I got paid for sitting with a dog.”

Loras smiled, close behind him on the stairs. “I know. They fight over it actually. And Ophelia loves it too. They all give her treats and then lie to me about it afterwards.”

Renly smiled coyly. He could well believe it. Sometimes, when he had dinner with Loras at his, he slipped Ophelia pieces of food under the table. He would never own up to this though. Loras had no patience for dogs who begged at meal-times and he had even less patience for people who fed them.

“And I know you do it too,” Loras added as they reached Renly’s bedroom.

“Do what?” Renly asked innocently, taking off his jacket and throwing it carelessly across the back of a chair.

Loras just rolled his eyes. “Nothing,” he conceded with a fond sigh.

Renly grinned gratefully at him. Closing the curtains, he then kicked off his shoes and flopped down onto his bed. There was nothing like collapsing into bed after a busy day and he stretched out happily.

“Tired?” Loras laughed. He bent over him to peer at him, curls falling over his face.

“Nah. Just lazy.”

Loras smiled and before he had time to move away, Renly reached out and took hold of his shirt collar, pulling him down on top of him. He was warm and surprisingly solid and Renly wrapped his arms around him tightly.

“That’s better,” he murmured.

Loras rolled his eyes and wriggling in Renly’s grip, shifted further up Renly’s chest so that his legs were no longer dangling off the end of the bed. He seemed content to stay put though once he’d settled and he slipped a hand into Renly’s hair. “Thanks for a lovely evening,” he said.

Renly smiled. Craning his neck, he pressed a kiss to Loras’ lips. It _had_ been a lovely evening. They’d had dinner overlooking the city, seen a show in one of London’s finest theatres and had walked home by the river. If that wasn’t a romantic birthday present, he didn’t know what was.

Loras smiled up at him even as his eyes fluttered closed and Renly kissed him again. Sighing, he ran a hand up the back of Loras’ neck and into his hair, anchoring it in his curls. Gently, he tilted Loras’ head down a little so that he could kiss him properly and he felt his pulse begin to race as he ran his tongue across the seam of Loras’ lips. It was so rare that he and Loras kissed properly nowadays that Renly couldn’t help getting a little excited as Loras opened his mouth for him. He supposed that he had to give Loras that much at least; as much as he found taking it slow difficult, it really did make the little things count again. It was like being in high school and getting intimate with someone for the first time again- except this time around Renly actually knew what he was doing.

Grinning, Renly flipped him over. He liked it better this way. It felt somehow unnatural on his back when Loras was being quite passive. One of them needed to be the driving force and it was easier for him to fill that role when Loras was pinned underneath him. Forcing a knee between Loras’ legs, he moved his kisses lower, pressing a hot wet kiss to Loras’ neck. He needed a bit of a shave and Renly kissed him again. Loras’ stubble wasn’t particularly rough and he liked how it was a little scratchy against his skin. Slowly, he kissed a path all the way down to the hollow in Loras’ throat, fingers coming to undo the top few buttons of Loras’ shirt so he could get at his chest. If he’d had his way he’d have tugged the whole thing over Loras’ head- along with his trousers too- and yet Renly tried to exercise restraint.

It was only when he’d undone the third button that he felt Loras shift a little uncomfortably below him.

“What’s the matter?” Renly breathed. He pressed another panted kiss to Loras’ chest, tracing patterns against his bare skin with his fingers.

Loras squirmed underneath him. “Well you promised romantic didn’t mean obligated sex.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I know I did,” he murmured, tilting his head to nip at the soft skin of Loras’ neck and pushing up harder against Loras’ leg. “And here I was thinking that kissing didn’t count as sex.”

“But you’re not just kissing. You’re…”

Renly raised his head. “I’m what?” he asked.

“Well you clearly want more than just to kiss me,” Loras protested. “You’re hard for one.”

Renly frowned. “So?” he asked. “I’m a guy, Loras, and I find you attractive. Is that such a crime? It’s not like I’m going to force you to touch it or anything.” He risked a breathless laugh. “Unless you want to that is. In which case you’re very very welcome.”

Loras wasn’t amused though. “I’m fine thanks.”

He couldn’t have sounded less willing if he’d tried and Renly felt his pulse slow down a little. Sighing, he propped himself up on an elbow. “Promise me something, Loras?” he asked wearily.

“What?”

“That we’ll have a sex life someday?” He wanted to put a time limit on it- say a few months or so- but he didn’t know how big a time scale Loras needed. He suspected that they were on very different pages here after all. If someone had asked Renly what taking it slow would constitute two months ago back in May when they’d got together, he’d have probably admitted that he expected at least a hand job by early July.

“Course we will,” Loras mumbled. “Soon.”

“Then that’s fine,” Renly sighed. Smiling, he leant down to kiss him again.

His lips merely brushed Loras’ cheek though as Loras turned his face away. It was a clear rejection and Renly couldn’t help but feel a little stung. Defeated, he laid his head on Loras’ shoulder.

“That is what you want though isn’t it?” Renly asked softly, speaking more to his neck than anything. “I mean, I know we’ve had our difficulties, but you do actually _want_ to be intimate with me don’t you? Sexually, I mean.”

“Course I do,” Loras said hastily, running a hand through his hair. “And anyway, that woman I see says physical intimacy is really important for relationships.”

Renly sighed. He would be lying if he said he was bowled off his feet by that answer. It hadn’t exactly been what he was looking for. “I didn’t ask whether you thought it was important though,” he said. “I asked if you _wanted_ it.”

Loras shrugged stiffly, jostling uncomfortably underneath Renly. He clearly didn’t like that question. “Course I do,” he repeated staunchly.

Renly laughed a little wryly. “Could you sound any less enthusiastic?” he asked, raising his head to look down at him. “Makes me feel just _great._ ”

Loras scowled up at him. “Don’t you even go there,” he snapped. “I’m not the one who told my partner they’re bad in bed.”

Those words hit their mark and Renly screwed his face up, thoroughly guilty. “I know,” he sighed. “And I’m sorry. You know I am.” He paused, laying a hand imploringly on Loras’ arm. “Is it that you’re nervous then? Because of what I said?”

Another scowl twisted across Loras’ face. “Look Renly, can we just dr-“

“Or maybe your erection?” Renly suggested tentatively. He knew from Beric that Loras perhaps had problems there. Beric had used to complain that Loras never seemed to respond to him.

Loras’ face flushed though at his words. “So clearly I’ve got a problem have I?” he snapped. “Well maybe you shouldn’t be so arrogant. Regardless of what you clearly think, not everyone wants to have sex with you every minute of every day.”

Renly blinked. “Loras?” he whispered.

Loras bit his lip. He took a deep breath and Renly suspected he was counting to ten in his head. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “I’m just, well, I’m _uncomfortable_ right now.”

“Okay,” Renly whispered. He wasn’t sure if Loras was talking literally here or not but he shifted off him just in case. “I won’t kiss you then. Not if you don’t want me to.” His offending erection was beginning to ache but he ignored it. His feelings hurt more.

Loras said nothing. He just remained flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Guess we should go to bed then,” Renly said. He didn’t really want to end the evening on this note but he didn’t really feel he had much choice. He reckoned that the ball was very much in Loras’ court.

Loras just nodded and silently, he got up to get himself ready for bed.

For once, they slept on opposite sides of the bed. Renly had tried inching closer but after Loras had pretended not to notice for the third time, he just gave up and rolled over to go to sleep. He tried not to take it personally. He knew Loras all too well by now and he was very aware that Loras probably would have actually quite liked a cuddle now; he was just too proud to back down and admit it.

It took Renly rather a while to get to sleep and when he did, it was fitful. He never slept well when he and Loras had had cross words.

 

* * *

 

 

He woke merely a few hours later and he wasn’t altogether surprised to find that he was now alone in bed, a lingering warmth on the sheets beside him the only clue that he’d once had company. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he raised his head to see that the balcony door was open.

He had to crawl to the end of the bed to be able to see through the balcony door and when he did, he sighed to see that Loras was sat alone out there on one of the chairs. He had his head in his hands and Renly felt terribly sorry for him. He knew that Loras hadn’t meant to lash out earlier. He’d just been embarrassed.

“Loras,” he called softly. “You going to come back to bed?”

Loras turned around. “Sure,” he sighed. Getting to his feet, he shut the balcony door behind him quietly.

Renly smiled sleepily up at him from the end of the bed. He couldn’t quite be bothered to turn back around and he laughed when Loras tugged on one of his pyjama legs, trying to spin him round.

“Alright alright,” he said. He shuffled back around so that he was the right way up, burrowing back down into the covers. He was pleased when Loras climbed back in beside him and he lifted an arm lazily so that Loras might be tempted to come and have a hug.

Loras didn’t pretend to ignore him this time and he came to lie in Renly’s arms. He was much calmer than he’d been earlier and he tucked his head into Renly’s neck.

“I love you,” Renly mumbled into his hair.

“Love you too, Ren,” was the soft reply. “And I’m sorry. You can kiss me if you want to.”

Renly just sighed, wrapping his arms around him. He was too tired to point out that it was more about Loras wanting him to. And even if he’d been wide awake he knew that he wouldn’t have disturbed the fragile peace.


	94. Chapter 94

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies- have taken a rather intensive job in France for six weeks so updates will probably be less frequent for a while.

Renly woke late the next morning and he was disappointed to find that there was no sign of Loras in his bedroom. He liked to think that it was simply because Loras had got up and gone downstairs- it was very rare after all that Loras slept in till midday like him- but the less optimistic part of him couldn’t help but fear that their argument last night had driven him away. He hoped not; he reckoned that he and Loras probably needed to have a good long chat about last night and that would be rather difficult if Loras had run back to Shoreditch in a sulk.

He was glad when he found him in the kitchen, a plate of half-finished toast in front of him. He’d evidently been up some time, for his hair was damp but almost dry. He’d dressed too, in an old t-shirt of Renly’s despite the fact that he had a small collection of his own things here now. Renly still thought it a little strange that a boy who had so many clothes would be so insistent on wearing his but he had no complaints. He rather liked it when Loras wore his things. It was reassuring somehow, for it was a habit that Loras dropped immediately when he was in a bad mood with him. The fact that he was sat in Renly’s things now was a sure sign that all was well.

“Morning,” Renly yawned as he sat down beside him. He reached for a piece of Loras’ left-over toast. It was long cold and didn’t have enough jam on it by far for his liking but he took a bite anyway.

Loras smiled at him over the table, his damp hair a little frizzy. “More like afternoon,” he pointed out with a glance at the clock on the wall.

Renly shrugged a little sheepishly. “Some of us,” he said, “have to get up for work every morning and work long hard days just so they can take their significant other to the theatre.”

Loras rolled his eyes at that but it was fondly. “I guess I’ll forgive you then,” he conceded. “Even if it is quarter to one and I’ve been bored for like five hours.”

Renly gave him a pitying look but he couldn’t quite bring himself to actually feel sorry for him. Getting up at eight on a Saturday morning was just not okay- not when you had nothing to get up for. “You must have been quiet this morning then,” he said. “I didn’t notice you go.”

Loras just shrugged. “I was quite loud actually,” he admitted. “I kept hoping you’d wake up.”

Renly just grinned at him. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell him that he should have just woken him up anyway, but he knew he didn’t mean that. His weekend lie-ins were one of the few things that came before even Loras. He wasn’t particularly surprised to hear that he’d slept happily through Loras both showering and rummaging through the wardrobe; when he slept, he slept properly. It was one of the things he’d inherited from Robert.

Yawning, he helped himself to another one of Loras’ crusts. Despite apparently being bored all morning, he seemed in a decent enough mood and Renly figured that he wouldn’t be _too_ crazy to bring last night up. He’d have to tread carefully still but that was always the case when bringing up sensitive issues with Loras. He was a little like a volcano; you never knew when he was going to erupt. Often there wasn’t even much warning.

“Loras,” he said cautiously. “About last night,”

Loras immediately stiffened slightly in his chair. He didn’t look angry though and that was at least something. Defensive was marginally better than angry. “What about it?” he asked.

Renly paused, wondering how to phrase it. He supposed what he wanted was for Loras to understand that he genuinely hadn’t been expecting anything more last night, that he was perfectly capable of restraint even if it didn’t seem like it sometimes. He wasn’t sure though whether Loras would believe him.

“I guess I wanted to tell you that I genuinely wasn’t trying to instigate anything,” he said eventually. “I guess I didn’t think you’d mind me kissing you like that.”

Loras shrugged. “Okay,” he said.

Renly got the feeling that he was agreeing just so that they could drop the subject. “Well why did you think I was?” he pressed. “I had promised you I wouldn’t. Did you think I’d forgotten or something?”

Loras shrugged again. “You were hard,” he said simply. “And you don’t tend to think with your head when you’re horny.”

Renly supposed that he could give him that. It was true enough; rationale did tend to go out of the window somewhat with him whenever any clothes were at all close to coming off. He reckoned that it was probably a fault that he shared with most men. “So can we talk about this?” he asked. “About how we’re, _I_ don’t know, about how we’re going to proceed?”

Loras’ face darkened. “What is it you want, Ren? You want me to schedule a date in the calendar? Issue myself a deadline or something?”

Renly cringed; that wasn’t what he’d meant at all and he reckoned Loras knew it. “No Loras,” he said quietly, bowing his head. “Of course not.”

“Then what is there to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” Renly sighed, pushing the final remnants of Loras’ toast around a little absent-mindedly. “Maybe we could talk about _why_ you don’t want us to have sex right now. Maybe there would be a good place to start?”

Loras shrugged, scowling down at the table. “Is this where you accuse me of being… of being _impotent?_ ” He said the word like it was a dirty one and Renly supposed that it was in some ways. It was the subject of jokes and punchlines; it was emasculating. The very essence of being a man was tied up with his penis and its ability to rise to the occasion.

“You know, Loras,” Renly said softly, reaching over to touch his arm. “It wouldn’t be a problem if you did have trouble in that area. I wouldn’t laugh or anything.”

Loras screwed his face up, his teeth gritted. “Will you quit with the accusations, Ren,” he spat. “I’m really not in the mood.” There was a thinly veiled warning in his voice and he sounded so defensive that Renly reckoned he’d hit the nail right on the head. He supposed it was like Satin had once hypothesised- that the anxiety about performing had become bad enough to cause a physical problem. It was unsurprising, Renly reckoned, and something that was probably primarily his fault. Annoyingly, he felt that that made the subject much more difficult to tackle. As the guilty party, Loras always had something to throw back in his face.

“It wasn’t meant as an accusation,” Renly sighed eventually. “It was meant kindly.”

Loras snorted. “How so?”

“I don’t know,” Renly laughed wryly. “To put you at ease, to make you less scared of talking to me about stuff maybe.”

“Scared?” Loras asked, his forehead furrowing dangerously. “Who do you think I am? Some fourteen year old girl?”

His tone was more than a little bit aggressive and Renly put his head in his hands. “Don’t do this, Loras,” he sighed. “You’re twisting my words and you know it.” He didn’t particularly care that Loras was making him out to be the bad guy here; that didn’t matter so much. What did bother him, however, was that he could see Loras digging a hole for himself in front of his very eyes. Renly knew far too well that the more vehemently Loras denied that anything was wrong, the harder it would be to come clean later. It would be like the cocaine all over again: one lie was easy to take back, a hundred lies less so.

“What is it you want then?” Renly asked when Loras said nothing. “How do _you_ want us to proceed?”

Loras just shrugged, staring down at the table.

Renly bit back a sigh; he felt rather like he was talking to a brick wall. He supposed he could understand it though. He knew that if _he_ was nervous about sex, he’d never have admitted it in a million years. It wasn’t like they were women; it was socially acceptable for women to talk about this sort of thing. They were men though. Men were expected to want sex all the time, to be raging bulls with an insatiable appetite. It was hard to own up to something as humiliating as worrying about sex. Clearly knowing that your partner already knew didn’t make it much easier.

“I guess I want to take things slow,” Loras said finally, eyes still on the table.

Renly did sigh this time. The conversation was clearly closed and he reckoned that they’d just gone in a large circle and ended up where they’d started, except that Loras was slightly more pissed off at him now. He didn’t know what to do really. Encouraging Loras to talk was like drawing blood out of a stone and he knew far too well that it would be difficult to bring the subject up again without looking really pushy. More than anything he wanted to talk to Sansa but he wasn’t allowed to do that either.

Sighing, he chewed on the final few crusts of Loras’ toast a little miserably. He supposed that there was only one thing he _could_ do really, and that was to simply back off and put the ball firmly in Loras’ court. No doubt Loras would come to him when he was ready.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly tried to learn from Loras’ rejection. He kept the kisses short and kept his hands from wandering. Cuddles were strictly affectionate at all times and he let any staying over be dictated by Loras. When he was allowed to stay over and hold him tight meanwhile, any desire to take things further was quickly pushed aside and buried until he got home and could wank in peace.

He had hoped that a complete withdrawal on his part might prompt Loras to take things into his own hands a little, that he might deepen a kiss perhaps or slip a hand suggestively up Renly’s shirt maybe- anything really that might have moved things along a little. That had been wishful thinking though. July turned into August and August drifted towards September and the only progress that Loras made was with his driving and his GCSEs. He passed the theory test with flying colours and his GCSEs as well as could have been expected- with an A in English and a B in Maths.

In regards to their sex life, however, Renly saw no change in the slightest. If he was quite honest actually, he wasn’t even sure that Loras had _noticed_ him backing off a little. If he had, he didn’t acknowledge it. He actively sought out cuddles and soft touches to his hair but if he desired anything more than that, it certainly wasn’t obvious. It was strange, Renly thought, and he was beginning to wonder whether Loras would genuinely _prefer_ things to stay like this indefinitely. He’d asked him back in July whether he wanted them to have a sex life and whilst Loras had insisted that he did, it had occurred to Renly on several occasions now that maybe he actually wasn’t too bothered, that maybe his sex drive simply wasn’t there anymore. It was something that Renly could have easily believed even, had it not been for an incident that had occurred back in February- an incident that Renly found himself dwelling on more and more often.

It had been back when Loras had gone on those disastrous few dates with Guyard and Renly remembered it as clearly as if it had been yesterday. Loras hadn’t yet leased his Shoreditch flat and he’d been staying with Renly at his place. He’d been there a good week or so when Renly had come home unexpectedly for lunch and he’d been sat in the living room, watching porn on his laptop. Renly hadn’t thought anything of it at the time- aside from finding it hilarious- but now he found himself almost obsessing over it. It was an incident after all which suggested that he did indeed have a sex drive and yet Renly supposed too that it was vaguely possible it had been a one-off.

He simply had to know and over the next few weeks, he tried to muster up the courage to ask Loras, to bring the subject casually up and risk incurring his wrath. Regardless of how good a mood Loras was or wasn’t in though, he never managed to get the words out and eventually, he resigned himself rather guiltily to a more underhand method.

He chose his moment carefully, picking one of the evenings that they ate in at Loras’. Those evenings were few and far between and Renly knew that he had to grasp his opportunity with both hands or else wait another fortnight or so. It wasn’t often that Loras volunteered to give cooking a go.

Tonight he’d even branched out and was attempting a tomato sauce for once. Although, seeing as he was using both chopped onion and garlic from a jar, Renly didn’t really see why it was so difficult.  
“Loras,” he asked casually, watching as Loras spooned some of the pre-chopped onion into the frying pan.

“Yes?” He had his tongue between his teeth and from the look of sheer concentration on his face, Renly would have thought that he was whipping them up a three course meal and not simply spaghetti in tomato sauce.

“Can I borrow your laptop? My phone’s internet has died.” He didn’t bother giving a reason for _why_ he needed to borrow his laptop. He’d learnt as a child that the more details you gave, the more suspicious you tended to look. A rehearsed lie was usually a very poor one.

Indeed, Loras didn’t even bat an eyelid. “Sure,” he said, stirring the onion as it sizzled. “It’s on the floor somewhere in the living room.”

Renly already knew where it was; he’d spent much of the evening staring guiltily at it. He felt even guiltier as he made his way to the living room and flicked the screen up. Going through someone’s browsing history without permission was certainly not a nice thing to do. He just had to know though. It wasn’t like Loras was letting anything on.

The first few sites that came up in his history were rather mundane. There were a few pages from the London College of Fashion’s website- mainly detailing what would be going on during Fresher’s Week. The next was from the DVLA and concerned Loras’ driving test, which was currently booked for some time next week. Renly didn’t have to scroll much further, however, to find what he was looking for.

Renly stared rather miserably at the screen. The visit was dated yesterday and it seemed that Loras had either been very indecisive about what he wanted to watch or he’d had quite a long session. The videos were quite varied, ranging from simple blow jobs to what was bordering on an orgy, and Renly didn’t know what to make of them. Scrolling further, he quickly found that this wasn’t a rare occurrence. From his history, it seemed that Loras watched porn most days, often at very strange times in the early hours of the morning.

Sighing, Renly rubbed his temple wearily. He guessed that Loras did have a sex drive after all. He supposed that that was a good thing really, for it would be one less thing to fix, but he couldn’t help but feel a little stung too. He wondered if the idea of having sex with him was really that terrifying. He supposed it had to be if Loras would rather watch porn seven or eight times a week than dare to even kiss him properly.

His feelings a little wounded, Renly scrolled on again, watching the incriminating evidence pile up and up and up. Bizarrely, Renly had the urge to laugh. Never in a million years would he have thought that he’d care about his partner’s porn viewing habits. God knew he watched a lot of it too. It was the sort of thing that Sansa worried about; not worldly individuals like himself. He supposed that it was different though when your partner didn’t want to have sex with you and seemed perfectly happy for it to stay that way too.

For indeed, Loras seemed perfectly happy with how things were. He seemed to have forgotten about his blip off the coast of Ibiza and he was in a good enough mood most days. He was smiling again and it was a rare day indeed when he didn’t jump at the chance for them to meet up and get together. Even the media had picked up on how happy he seemed and more often than not there would be some article about how he had ‘bounced’ to the shops with ‘a spring in his step’ or how he had ‘glowed with health’ as he paid for his coffee in Starbucks.

And all in all, Renly supposed that he wasn’t _un_ happy either. He got to see Loras every day and they’d usually do something nice even if it was as simple as going out for dinner or watching reruns on Netflix in bed. It was like having a very cuddly best friend though- one who told you often that he loved you- and Renly ached for more than that. He wanted Loras to desire him, to want to undress him. He wanted to be allowed to kiss his own boyfriend, to touch him without having to have express permission.

That was only a fantasy at the moment though- one tinged with memory- and Renly reckoned that it was still some way off. Sighing, he closed the history tab and put Loras’ laptop lid down. He felt awful, simultaneously guilty and upset. He supposed all he could do though was to give Loras more time, and plastering a smile on his face, he headed back into the kitchen to investigate the smell of burning.


	95. Chapter 95

“Are you ready yet?” Renly called out for what seemed like the fiftieth time that evening. It seemed forever that he’d been lounging on Loras’ sofa waiting for him.

“Not quite.”

Renly snorted. “Well Fresher’s Week will have finished by the time you get there.” He really wished that Loras would hurry up and go. He’d been expected at Sansa’s at least ten minutes ago and he hadn’t even left Shoreditch yet. He knew full well that Loras could have been ready _hours_ ago; it was just that he was stalling for time, looking for an excuse not to go. Even the arrival of the taxi half an hour ago had done little to inspire him to hurry up and he didn’t seem to care in the slightest that the driver was now sitting outside with his meter running. Renly supposed it was hard to care when you were as rich as Loras was.

It was another five minutes before Loras emerged from his bedroom and he didn’t look any different from when Renly had seen him last. Only god knew what he’d spent the last ten minutes faffing about with this time.

“Are you ready _now?”_ Renly asked, a little exasperated.

Loras turned his nose up at the question. “You know, Ren,” he said. “You can go if you like. You don’t have to wait for me to get going first.”

Renly merely raised an eyebrow, sitting up properly on the sofa to let Loras know exactly what he thought of that suggestion. They both knew that if Renly left Loras to his own devices, he’d be back in his pyjamas before he could count to ten.

“So are you ready?” Renly asked again, more firmly this time.

It was with a very slight frown that Loras nodded. Even he presumably couldn’t find any more minute details to fuss over before he left.

“Then go,” Renly said, standing up to give him a gentle push towards the door. “You’ll have fun.”

“That is a lie,” Loras muttered, bending to retie his laces even though there was nothing wrong with them. “It’ll be awful.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “It will be what you make it, Loras. So yes, if you’re so determined that it will be awful, it probably will be.”

Loras didn’t seem able to argue with that and very reluctantly, he shoved his wallet in his back pocket to get going. He stopped though by the door, looking back at him with a rather imploring expression. “Do I have to go, Ren?” he muttered. “Can’t we just stay here? We could get pizza or something? Or go to that Chinese you love.”

Renly sighed, closing his ears to the very tempting suggestion of Chinese food. “Come here,” he said. He wrapped his arms around him tightly when he came. He could understand why Loras didn’t want to go. Loras didn’t know anybody and he couldn’t exactly blend into the background like other anxious students could. All eyes would be on him as soon as he entered the room.

“So can we?” Loras asked again, leaning heavily against him. “I’d even go and get the food.”

Renly shook his head. “No,” he laughed softly. “This is the best way for you to make friends. Almost everyone will be new, Loras. And you’re worrying about nothing. Everyone there will be desperate to talk to you.”

Loras just gave half a shrug. “Can I at least come and see you after then?”

“Sure you can,” Renly smiled. He kissed the top of Loras’ head and gave him another nudge out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Arya met Renly outside her and Sansa’s flat, ready with a residential parking permit for him. She smiled when she saw that Renly had come in her Panda and she patted its bonnet a little affectionately. Arya, Renly reckoned, was much fonder of cars than she was of people. Gendry of course was the only exception to that rule, and that was probably only because he loved cars just as much as she did.

“Do we have to swap back yet?” she asked though, opening Renly’s car door for him and passing in the permit.

Renly smiled, pleased to see that she’d already filled the permit in. “I’ll be able to tell you that on Wednesday,” he said. “If he passes, then I guess I’ll be handing this old thing back to you.”

Arya nodded. She looked a little disappointed. “You gonna let him drive your lambo then? Even though he’s just a beginner?” Her tone let Renly know exactly what she thought of that idea.

Renly shrugged though, climbing out of the car and locking it behind him. He hadn’t really thought that far yet. If Loras _did_ want to drive his car, he doubted that there was very much he could do about it. The car had originally been Loras’ after all. It wasn’t really his place to tell Loras that he didn’t want him driving it.

“I guess I’ll suggest he buy something of his own,” he told her. “I reckon he’ll probably want to anyway to be fair. Choosing your first car is always fun.”

Arya shrugged in agreement, kicking the front door with her tatty Doc Martens so that it swung open. It made an awful clanging sound and Renly was surprised not to hear Sansa shouting angrily for her to respect the neighbours.

“Have you had fun in my car then?” Renly asked as he followed her up the stairs.

Arya nodded. “Yeah, got her up to two-twenty the other day. Was pretty awesome. Engine on her is fantastic.”

Renly grinned. He liked to hear that; he’d known all along that Arya and Gendry would get more out of his car than he did. He was quite content with how it looked after all and the image that it gave him.

Arya left him then to go into the kitchen and Renly knocked loudly on the door to Sansa’s room before entering. She was stood in front of the mirror with her hair in rollers when he came in and Renly didn’t think she could have looked more like a fifties housewife if she tried. She even had the rather demure silk dressing gown to complete the picture.

“Very sexy,” Renly grinned as he flopped down onto the bed.

Sansa just rolled her eyes. “I’m going for a casting call tomorrow and I want my hair to look nice. Is that a crime?”

“Better avoid me then,” Renly laughed, stretching out lazily. “Apparently I’ve got a thing for curly hair. Might jump you or something.”

Sansa just shook her head a little fondly and turned back to the mirror. “God,” she said, adjusting one of her rollers. “It feels like I haven’t seen you properly in ages. Genuinely Renly, when was the last time I saw you outside of work?”

Renly just grinned. There was no arguing with that. Whilst he still saw Sansa regularly on the two days a week that she came into the office, their catch ups outside of that had become increasingly infrequent. “What can I say,” he chuckled. “My company is desired everywhere.”

Sansa laughed, sitting down at her dressing table and crossing her legs. “It was better when you and Loras weren’t together,” she said. “He seems to take up all your time.”

Renly just smiled. He couldn’t really say anything to that either. It was true; Loras did take up all his time. He wasn’t sure whether he minded or not. When he thought about it, he supposed it was a shame that he didn’t see his friends so much.

“So how is Loras?” Sansa asked.

Renly made a face, thinking of the sullen boy that he’d all but forced into a taxi earlier. “Well he’s off to the London College of Fashion this evening,” he admitted. “To meet the other students.”

“So that’s why I get to see you tonight,” Sansa sighed exasperatedly. “I knew there had to be a reason.”

Renly grinned a little sheepishly. “I guess,” he said. “I’ve been let off my leash for an evening.”

Sansa came to sit next to him on the bed. “So things must be good,” she commented, adjusting her dressing gown so that she didn’t reveal herself. “I can’t remember the last time you spent this much time with a guy.”

Renly exhaled loudly, rolling over onto his stomach as he wondered whether he could truthfully agree or not. “Things are okay,” he said eventually, hugging one of Sansa’s fluffy pillows to his chest. He didn’t want to lie and say that things were brilliant.

Sansa picked up on his choice of words immediately. “Only okay?” she asked, her forehead furrowing. “Why’s that?”

Renly shrugged. “Same old.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow. “You guys still haven’t had sex yet?” She sounded disbelieving.

Renly gave half a shrug. He wasn’t supposed to gossip but this was a direct question. “I think I touched his thigh the other day,” he laughed. “Might have even seen an ankle.”

Sansa saw through his show of good humour though and she looked a little concerned. “God,” she said. “That’s a long time now. And are you coping?”

Renly shrugged again. “I dunno,” he said. “It’s hard… _Literally_ , sometimes,” he added with a smirk.

Sansa ignored his crudeness. “Well why?” she asked. She looked a little contemplative. “Is it some kind of test, do you think? Does he want you to _prove_ something?”

Renly held his hands up. “Search me,” he laughed. “I don’t think so though. I think it’s just because his confidence is so low actually. I suppose I can’t blame him really. There was that whole list fiasco and his recent sexual experiences haven’t exactly been great...” He grimaced; he imagined that might be the worst understatement of the century.

Sansa nodded. “When actually _was_ the last time he had sex? With Beric right?”

Renly shook his head, hugging the pillow tighter. “Nah he never slept with Beric. Last time was with me.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow; she didn’t need to say what she thought of that. “And it was that bad?” she asked. “That’s unlike you for.”

Renly sighed; his memory of that night was fuzzy at best. “Well he was absolutely smashed,” he admitted. “And I told him afterwards that it had been a huge mistake and that I’d only done it because I’d felt sorry for him.”

Sansa blinked. “You _said_ that?”

Renly grimaced; he didn’t need to hear her shock to know he’d screwed up there. “Well I didn’t say it quite like that,” he mumbled. “But yeah essentially that’s the gist of what he _understood_.” He sighed heavily, thoroughly ashamed of himself. “Anyway, the time before that was with that DJ, or at least to the best of my knowledge it was. And that wasn’t exactly peachy either.”

“No,” Sansa said. “If your definition of not exactly peachy is being mocked in every tabloid there is and having sixty million people laugh at you.”

Renly made a face, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He wondered if Sansa had pulled that figure out of the air or whether that was actually the amount of people who had seen that video. He supposed it probably sounded about right. That was the terrible thing about the internet; nothing ever disappeared; it was always there, ready and waiting for people to view it again.

“And then,” he said, “If we go way _way_ back, the last time before that that _I_ am aware of is the night we split up. And I really hurt him then actually. Physically, I mean...” He had to trail of there; it was only as he’d spoken that he’d realised there was an error in his order of events. He’d forgotten completely of course about Satin.

Sansa had never been told about that though and she sighed heavily. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s not great at all. Guess you can understand why he’s reluctant.”

“Mmm,” Renly agreed absent-mindedly. He’d heard her but his thoughts were somewhere else entirely, with a boy who he hadn’t spoken to for near half a year.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly left Sansa’s quite early but he didn’t go home. Instead he sat in his car, too deep in thought to drive. It was self-pitying indeed but now that he thought about it, he couldn’t understand why Loras would let Satin of all people touch him and not him. Loras had made no secret of how much he hated Satin and Renly simply couldn’t understand it. As lovely as Satin was, he refused to believe that Loras would have felt more at ease with him. He was an escort for god’s sake and seeing how reluctant Loras was to do anything with him now, he couldn’t help but wonder why Loras hadn’t run a mile.

It was a question to which Rely could find no answer and eventually he got out his phone with a little trepidation. He sat for some time wondering if he could bring himself to do it. The last time he’d spoken to Satin he’d shouted at him and told him to get out of his house. He wasn’t quite sure if he was _still_ angry at him though. If he thought about it, he felt like he ought to be. But he wasn’t like Loras; he didn’t hold grudges for half as long.

Eventually, he pressed a finger to Satin’s name and let it ring. He had to wonder though whether Satin would answer and he was just beginning to assume that he wouldn’t when the ringing stopped.

“Renly?” Satin sounded a little bemused.

“Hey,” Renly managed. For all the time that he’d spent deliberating, he still didn’t really know what to say. Oddly though, the sound of Satin’s voice was still reassuring.

“Did you mean to phone me?”

“Yeah,” Renly said, running a hand through his hair a little anxiously. “Yeah I did. I guess I just wanted to speak to you about something.”

Satin paused. “Well I’m working at the moment,” he said a little apologetically. “But feel free to ring tomorrow morning or something. Or drop round the bar actually if you want- I’m not going back up to Scotland till next week and it’s literally dead tonight.”

Renly nodded, tapping the steering wheel a little agitatedly. “You still working down in Brixton then?”

“Yeah. Come by if you like. It’d be nice to see you.”

Renly sighed and glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was only ten and Loras wasn’t expected back for at least an hour. “Sure,” he said. His curiosity was stronger than his pride it seemed.

It didn’t take Renly long to drive the three miles or so down to Brixton at this time of night and he found he easily remembered how to find the bar Satin worked at during the holidays. It hadn’t changed in a year, Renly found. The paint was still peeling and there were still tacky flashing lights outside.

Satin was stood at the bar when Renly came in, busy serving an older man. Like the venue, he didn’t seem to have changed either. His hair was a little longer and he wasn’t quite as clean-shaven as he’d used to be but the smile was exactly the same. As he’d said on the phone, business looked slow tonight. Aside from the one customer he was tending at the moment, there were only three or four more men there: something which was unsurprising really seeing as it was a Monday night.

Renly didn’t know whether to approach him or not but eventually Satin spotted him and gave him a small wave. Saying something to the other bartender, he then made his way over. He didn’t seem to know what to say either though and for a long moment they just stood there opposite each other a little awkwardly.

“I guess I should apologise,” Satin murmured eventually, hands thrust deep in his pockets. “I know I really upset you…”

Renly just shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said, not sure whether he meant that or not. He gestured over to the bar. “You allowed to take a break then?”

Satin nodded. “Want me to get you a drink first though? It’d be on the house.”

“It’s fine,” Renly said, pulling a chair away from the nearest table so he could sit down. “I’d love one but I’m driving.”

Nodding, Satin sat down next to him. “I see you ended up with Loras in the end?” he chuckled.

Renly sighed, staring down at the slightly dusty table. “Yeah,” he said. “You can thank yourself for that actually. I gave him so much shit over you that he told me to either get lost or date him.”

Satin smiled at that, the corners of his mouth crinkling. “You know, I always wondered why he never did that before. Any idiot would have been able to tell what your answer would be.”

Renly shrugged. He supposed he couldn’t say. He hadn’t really known his answer until he’d been faced with the question. He guessed Satin was right though; there had only been one answer he’d felt capable of giving.

“So what brings you here?” Satin asked when Renly was silent. “You haven’t _split_ _up_ with Loras have you?”

Renly laughed, rolling his eyes. “No,” he said. He supposed he couldn’t blame Satin for jumping to that conclusion. Satin was used to him running to him for advice when he and Loras were going through a rocky patch. He supposed that today was no different actually; it was just a little less extreme than what Satin had anticipated.

“Oh good,” Satin said. “I guess I’d have read about it if you had.”

Renly ran a hand through his hair. It was weird to think about Satin reading about him and Loras in the papers. He supposed it was to be expected though. No doubt Satin was very curious, especially having had the inside scoop as he had.

“But it was Loras I wanted to talk to you about,” he admitted quietly. He could feel a faint blush rising to his cheeks in anticipation of what he was about to admit.

Satin raised an eyebrow. “How come?”

“Well,” Renly said softly, tracing a pattern in the dusty table with a finger. “I guess the issue is that we’re… Well, to put it frankly, we haven’t had sex yet.”

Satin let out a low whistle. Whatever he’d been expecting, it surely hadn’t been that. “God he’s got nerve,” he chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to be the one who dared do that to Renly Baratheon.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He supposed it was an understandable reaction though. If he’d told himself four months ago that he’d be in a celibate relationship, he would have laughed and said he wasn’t capable of that.

“So how can _I_ help you with that?” Satin asked. “I hope you’re not expecting me to book you in.”

Renly rolled his eyes, refusing to look up from the table. “No,” he said.

“Good,” Satin laughed. “Because I wouldn’t do it. I draw the line at abetting affairs when I know the spurned partner too.”

Renly sighed at that. It hadn’t actually occurred to him to cheat. He’d never cheated on any of his boyfriends in the past- unless he counted when he’d kissed Loras while still dating Jon- and he had no plans to. He rather wished that Satin hadn’t put the idea in his head though. He knew it would be far too easy to see a guy for a night, fuck him to his heart’s content and then return to Loras and his cuddles in the morning.

“So what then?” Satin prompted.

“Well you’re the last person that Loras was, well, _with_ ,” Renly said a little pathetically. “I figured you might be able to sort of give me a few hints or something.”

Satin’ expression suddenly became a little more serious. “Well we didn’t have sex,” he said bluntly. “I told you that at the time.”

“I know,” Renly agreed. “But you presumably did _something_.” He bit back a grimace. Whatever _something_ was, it was more than Loras would let _him_ do.

Satin sighed. “Well yes,” he said eventually. “We did do some things.”

“Could you perhaps elaborate?”

Satin was silent for a few moments. “You know what, Renly, no I can’t. I agreed with Loras that I had to tell you _something_ happened but if he hasn’t chosen to tell you the details then I shan’t either.”

Renly closed his eyes. He had to grudgingly respect that. “At least tell me how he was in himself then?” he almost pleaded. He just couldn’t understand it. It was impossible that Loras had allowed Satin more than he was allowing him.

“Well he wasn’t very confident if that’s what you mean,” Satin said. “And he’d drunk a fair bit too. I’ll give you that.”

Renly sighed, pushing his hair out of his face as he stared down at his hands. “It’s just, well, I’m starting to think that I’ve destroyed his confidence so much that he actually doesn’t _want_ to sleep with me.”

Satin’s expression softened a little at that and he reached out to touch Renly’s arm. “Nah,” he murmured. “I got the definite feeling that he wanted to sleep with you. If anything, he seemed rather _desperate_ to try and please you actually.”

“Then how come he won’t let me sleep with him?” Renly muttered. “ _That_ would please me.”

Satin shrugged. “Yeah but I’d imagine he’s worried that when he sleeps with you it _won’t_ please you. That’s the problem. What was it you called him? Boring, dull? Something like that?”

Renly winced. He couldn’t remember the exact words but they had been the gist. “But surely he realises that boring sex would be better than no sex,” he protested.

Satin shrugged again. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? But I guess you can’t suck at sex if you don’t actually _have_ sex.”

Renly sighed, returning to inspect his fingernails again. He guessed that made some sort of warped sense. Loras was a very proud individual after all. “You think?” he asked.

Yeah,” Satin said. “If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that Loras probably doesn’t want to have sex with you because he’s terrified you won’t enjoy it. And that’s something he can’t deal with. I guess he’d be embarrassed and upset if it was underwhelming.”

Renly put his head in his hands. Satin hadn’t really told him anything he didn’t know. He knew Loras was nervous about his performance. He knew Loras worried about satisfying his partners. He supposed he should be pleased to hear, however, that Satin had got the feeling that sex with him was something which he reckoned Loras did actually want on some level.

“So what would you do?” Renly sighed. “If you were me?”

Satin exhaled loudly; even he appeared a little stumped. “I guess that when you do actually have sex, you’ll have to tread very carefully,” he said.

That hadn’t really been the question that Renly wanted answering but he supposed this was useful too. He’d been too focused on _when_ they would have sex to give much thought to _how_ he’d go about it. “So would you basically pretend he’s a virgin and start from scratch?” he asked.

Satin shrugged. “Yes and no,”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Well what does that mean?”

“Well yeah he’s nervous, and he probably wants you to go slow and be gentle. But he’s _not_ a virgin, Renly. He’s twenty four and he’s proud, clearly not submissive by nature either. He won’t want you to admit that you’re wrapping him up in cotton wool.”

He was right, Renly knew. Regardless of whether or not it was something he wanted, Loras would hate the idea of being pandered to. “So I wrap him up in cotton wool without letting him know it?” he said.

Satin shrugged. “He’ll know it, but just let him pretend that both of you don’t know it. Be gentle but don’t make a huge deal of it.” He sighed, fiddling with one of his curls. “The other thing that I’d personally do if I were you is not pay him too much attention. I know it sounds a bit counter-intuitive but it’s way more nerve-wracking when the spotlight is on you.”

Renly grimaced. That sounded _completely_ counter-intuitive to him. “I figured it’d be nice to really focus on him actually,” he admitted. “You know, to remind him why it’s fun, to make sure he enjoys it.”

Satin shrugged. “I can tell you now that he _won’t_ enjoy it. Regardless of what you do. Not at first anyway. But I’ve told you this before. Loras is a real people-pleaser when it comes to you. He’ll only relax enough to enjoy himself when he sees that _you’re_ enjoying yourself.”

“You think?”

“Yeah,” Satin said. “I do think. He’s human and he loves you. It’s impossible to enjoy yourself when you think that the person you’re with is having a really shit time. Unless you’re a massive arsehole, that is.”

Renly supposed that that was true. Thinking about it, he guessed that he probably wouldn’t enjoy himself either if he knew his partner wasn’t. The difference with him was that he usually thought his partner was having a great time.

He nodded wearily. “But this is all pointless unless we actually have sex,” he said, raising his face to Satin’s. “What do I do there?”

Satin shrugged. “Well that _can_ you do there?” he said. “He doesn’t want to have sex, and there’s little you can do to change that. Only he can change his mind there.”

“But what if he never changes his mind?” Renly laughed ruefully.

Satin sighed deeply, meeting Renly’s eye across the table. “I know you, Renly. And we both know you won’t stick around forever in a sexless relationship. I’d hazard a guess that Loras knows that too.”


	96. Chapter 96

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's very much a bit of a filler chapter but sometimes the chapter splits work out like that! Am back in England so chapter updates should be more regular again at least :D

The door was only single locked when Renly returned home- a sure sign that Loras was in and had used the key under the flowerpot. Renly felt a little guilty as he opened the door; he hadn’t intended to but he’d ended up spending the entire evening at Satin’s bar. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed spending time with him and it was only when the clock chimed eleven that Renly had even noticed the time.

Loras was in Renly’s bed when Renly came in. He’d evidently been back a long time because his hair was wet and he was in his pyjamas.

“That bad huh?” Renly laughed, standing in the doorway and surveying him.

Loras shrugged. “It was alright, I guess.”

“Meet any new people?”

“Yeah actually. You were right. Everyone wanted to talk to me. It was all I could do to escape.”

Renly nodded. That was good to hear. He wasn’t _surprised_ to hear it though. He still remembered how mind-blown he’d been to see Loras standing in front of him all those years ago at London Fashion Week. He’d been tripping over his feet to get to speak to him and it had taken all his composure not to come across as a desperate freak who thought he was the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen.

“Drink anything?” he asked.

“A little,” Loras admitted, running a hand through his wet hair. “But I wish I hadn’t. Felt a little out of control.”

Renly nodded, coming to sit by Loras on the bed. He knew the feeling Loras described well: how after a few drinks you started losing your inhibitions and stopped caring about consequences. Personally, Renly liked that feeling. He could understand why Loras didn’t though. When Renly was drunk, the worst thing he’d be likely to do was drink more and go home with someone a little less attractive than usual. For Loras, he supposed the potential fall was a little more consequential. Tonight though, he reckoned that Loras had done well. Moderation was key. He’d gone to the event and he’d drank enough to get a little chatty but not enough to think that getting hammered and going out with the rest of the students was a good idea. It sounded like nothing but Renly was proud of him.

Loras had clearly had enough talking about it though and he quickly changed the subject. “And how was Sansa?” he asked.

“She was fine,” Renly laughed, kicking off his shoes and getting into bed. “Was moaning about how much Sandor and Arya argue. I didn’t stay long though.”

Loras cocked his head. He knew what time Renly had left and he knew what time he’d come home. He was evidently wondering what had happened to the time in between. It took him a good few moments of deliberation though before he asked.

“So where’d you go afterwards?”

Renly paused, wondering how much to tell him. He knew far too well that Loras wouldn’t be fond of his choice of company tonight.

“Well, I went to see Satin tonight actually,” he told him.

Loras stiffened like a taut bow string; he was immediately wary. “Isn’t he in Scotland?” he asked, voice half a snap.

Renly tried not to find his tone offensive. It wasn’t actually as hard as he thought it might be. More than anything actually, he had to feel sorry for him. Regardless of whatever Loras and Satin had done together that night, Renly reckoned that Loras couldn’t _help_ but be paranoid about men like Satin. Loras knew after all that Renly and Satin had had a great sex life and thinking about that now must have made him keenly aware of his and Renly’s own sex life. Indeed, oblivious as he pretended to be about the whole situation, Loras must have known that Renly hadn’t miraculously stopped feeling frustrated just because he’d stopped nagging him about it.

“Term hasn’t started yet,” Renly told him gently. “And he stays down here in the holidays.”

“Did you, um, go to his?” There was thinly veiled paranoia on Loras’ face. Renly could see that he was trying to control himself but he got the feeling that Loras wanted to lean in and search for evidence. The fact that he wasn’t doing that was probably a credit to him.

“No Loras. I met him at the bar where he works.”

Loras visibly relaxed a little at that.

“What?” Renly asked softly. “Did you think I was carrying on some sordid affair behind your back?”

Loras’ face looked pained. “No,” he said. It was a whine though and clearly a lie. Renly supposed he couldn’t blame him. If he’d been in Loras’ shoes at the moment, he’d have been assuming his partner was cheating all over the place.

Renly sighed when Loras’ face seemed stuck in that expression. “I was only pulling your leg,” he said gently.

Loras scowled. “I know,” he said. “Of course you wouldn’t be having an affair.”

It was a clear lie and Renly was struck suddenly by an urge that made him feel like a terrible person. He could see from Loras’ face how easy it would be to use Satin to make him feel threatened. Renly reckoned Loras would undress pretty quickly for him if he thought the alternative was Renly getting it on with Satin instead. He swallowed the urge down though. It was a tactic that would get quick results but cause long term problems. He didn’t want Loras to feel pressured and threatened when he finally let them have sex.

“So how is Satin anyway?” Loras asked a little stiffly. He was evidently trying to make up for his tone earlier.

“He’s okay,” Renly said, shifting closer to try and put Loras a little more at ease. “He’s moving into a house with Sansa’s brother next week actually. Which even he admits is a massively bad idea, considering that they’ve got this weird on-off thing going on.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around Loras’ shoulders. “But it’s not like I could be one to talk really. I lose count of how often you stayed here when we weren’t together.”

Loras shrugged, resting his head against Renly’s shoulder. “It probably was a bad idea in hindsight,” he admitted. “I guess I was so eager to spend time with you that I didn’t really think it through.”

Renly smiled despite the wet hair now against his shoulder. He’d always known that that was true. It was surprising though that the only time Renly had slept with him had been when Loras had had his own place. He guessed that maybe he’d known to have his guard up when Loras had been in the next room.

Loras raised his head to look at him when Renly said nothing. “Did you, um, talk about me at all?”

Renly paused. “Well obviously a little bit,” he said. “He wanted to know how you were, why we’d got back together. All that sort of stuff.”

Loras didn’t seem reassured. He no doubt knew that the conversation hadn’t ended there. He didn’t dare accuse Renly of it though and he merely scowled against Renly’s shoulder, his expression saying everything his words didn’t.

“So how long have you been back?” Renly asked, thinking that if he valued anything about his life, he ought to change to subject very rapidly. He didn’t regret talking to Satin about their issues but he didn’t think Loras would see it the same way.

“A few hours.”

“So what you been up to here then?”

Loras propped himself up on an elbow. “Well I’ve got a new manager actually and she’s got a very different idea to the old one. Wants me to do more. So she’s sent over all these things that she wants me to have a look at.”

Renly tilted his head. “Well surely it’s you who decides what you want to do.”

“Well yeah,” Loras agreed. “But I do _sometimes_ take advice, you know.”

Renly grinned. “News to me,” he teased.

Loras just rolled his eyes at that comment. “And the idea of doing a bit of work right now isn’t _so_ bad...”

Renly raised an eyebrow; he saw right through those words. “The party was that lame huh? he laughed. “That you’ve already decided you’d rather do something else?”

Loras shrugged.

Renly bit back a sigh. He thought it a real shame that Loras seemed determined to find this course difficult before he’d even really started it. “So anything that caught your eye?”

“Yeah,” Loras said slowly, “I was thinking of maybe doing a music video. If you’d be okay with that of course?”

Renly shrugged. “Do what you like,” he said. “Nothing to do with me.”

Loras looked like he disagreed for a moment but he didn’t push it. He just tucked a lock of his wet hair behind his ear and nodded.

“So why a music video?” Renly asked.

“I don’t really want to do any of the modelling yet and they’re an easy way to keep my profile up.”

“Do you _need_ to keep your profile up?” As far as Renly as concerned, it was hardly necessary at all. Loras wasn’t one of those z-list stars who constantly needed to fear that his fifteen minutes were up; he was so well known that he couldn’t go _anywhere_ without being recognised. Even Gendry and Arya’s friends at the garage had known who he was.

Loras shrugged though. “Keeping a high profile is never a bad thing.”

“Well genuinely do what you like,” Renly laughed. “So long as you humour me and give this course an actual try too.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “What if I hate it?”

“If you still hate it at Christmas then I’ll give in.”

That clearly wasn’t what Loras wanted to hear but he nodded. “Fine,” he said shortly. “Though you sound like my mother.”

Renly stuck his tongue out at him. “So what happened to the last manager,” he laughed. “Did you fire him?” He could imagine Loras firing people. He was fussy and stubborn and Renly could picture him pointing his finger at his underlings like Alan Sugar did on the Apprentice. All in all, he imagined that trying to be the person who managed Loras’ career would be hell.

“No,” Loras told him though. “He’s getting married and wants to spend more time with his wife.”

Renly smiled; he supposed that was a whole lot nicer than being fired by Loras. “Who’s he marrying?” he asked. “Anyone I’d have heard of?”

Loras shrugged. “No,” he said. “Married into serious money though. Some Russian heiress. She was another one of his clients actually, thought that being rich meant she ought to be able to be a model too.”

Renly said nothing. Looking at some of the models on the catwalks nowadays, he reckoned that strategy often worked. Money could buy you most things nowadays. “Well good for him.”

Loras made a face. “I don’t know. Personally I don’t think it’ll last.”

Renly grinned. “Forever the optimist aren’t you,” he laughed. “And why shan’t it last?”

“Well they’ve signed a prenup for one and that’s _never_ a good sign.”

Renly frowned; he begged to disagree. He imagined that if he were a rich Russian heiress, he’d have rather wanted that prenup too. “How come?” he asked.

Loras sat up a little more. “Well they’re not even married yet and they’re already thinking about what’s going to happen when they divorce. It’s ridiculous.”

Renly felt his forehead furrowing against his will. “Hypothetically, Loras,” he laughed, “and I really do mean hypothetically right now, if _we_ ever we got married, would you not want to sign a prenup then?”

Loras was frowning too now and he looked at Renly as if he were a little confused. “No,” he said. “It’s the most un-romantic idea ever.”

“Well yes,” Renly agreed. “But you do realise that without a prenup I could potentially walk away with _half_ of what you own. Or at least half of everything you earned while married. It would be _unlikely_ but it’s a distinct _possibility_.”

Loras shrugged. “Call me a hopeless romantic if you like but marriage is supposed to be forever.”

Renly sighed. He wondered if Loras really was a little on the stupid side. He was a multi-millionaire and here he was claiming that he’d forgo a prenup when getting married to a bloody lawyer of all people. Renly supposed he shouldn’t really complain though; the only person risking to lose in that situation was Loras. All the same though, he knew that if he and Loras ever _did_ get married, he’d probably insist on one regardless. If anything, a prenup stopped couples dragging each other through the courts forever and to be honest, Renly didn’t think he ever wanted to be that bitter person who took Loras for half of what had. Signing a prenup would ensure that that wasn’t ever a temptation.

“Would you even want to get married?” Renly asked. As soon as the question had left his lips though, he wondered why he had bothered asking it. Even before gay marriage had been legalised, he imagined that Loras had been one of those people who always dreamed of getting married.

Indeed, Loras was smiling a little wistfully at the question. “Course I would,” he said. “One day at least.”

Renly smiled too. The strange thing was that despite all their problems, he could actually envision him and Loras making that sort of commitment. He wondered though if this was just his and Loras’ way, if they would forever be condemned to get way ahead of themselves.


	97. Chapter 97

“What do you mean you _failed?_ ” Renly asked, switching the phone to his other ear to make sure he’d heard correctly. He’d tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice but he couldn’t help pacing as Loras explained.

“Well how can you _accidentally_ do fifty in a thirty mile an hour zone?” Renly protested when he’d heard enough. “And no I don’t care if it’s the first time the instructor has ever seen anyone get a major and no minors.”

Jaime looked up from the desk beside Renly and smirked up at him. “Nice,” he laughed.

Renly sighed and ignored him. He wanted to curse Robert for putting them to work on a project together. “Well yeah,” he said. “I damn well hope you’ve booked a retake. “Running a hand through his hair, he put the phone down.

Jaime grinned. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

Renly rolled his eyes. “No,” he said, sitting back down at his desk wearily. “I’m just dating an idiot. Who does fifty-five in a thirty mile an hour zone while on your driving test?”

Jaime shrugged, chewing on the end of his pen a little idly. “So you have a boyfriend who likes to live a little,” he said. “Try dating the girl who wants to stop at zebra crossings even when there’s no-one there.”

Renly grinned, stretching out at his desk; he could imagine Brienne doing exactly that. “Yes but your girlfriend is also thoughtful and kind,” he protested. “Mine has just started at college and is already determined to hate everyone there.”

Jaime grinned, blond hair falling over his forehead. “Yeah but if you’re as hot as him or me, it’s okay to be a little condescending sometimes. It just comes naturally.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Want to swap then? I could get on board with Brienne for a while. She’s fun. She’s nice.”

Jaime gave him rather a lazy smile. “Nah,” he said. “I think I’ll stick.”

Renly smiled. It was well known that even though Jaime often took the piss, he was fond of his girlfriend when it came down to it. He and Brienne had been dating years now and she was clearly worth pissing his father off for. Before Brienne had come on the scene after all, Jaime had been the apple of Tywin Lannister’s eye. Now, however, he had joined the ranks of Tyrion. Gone were the expensive gifts and shameless nepotism. Apparently Brienne was worth it though.

“Fair enough,” Renly laughed. “Mine’s going away next week so it wouldn’t be a fair swap anyway.”

“Where’s he going?”

“Edinburgh,” Renly sighed. “To shoot some music video.” He supposed it was none of his business really but if he’d been Loras, he probably wouldn’t have taken time out of college in the first proper week. Loras was adamant that all the lectures that week were introductory and thus _optional_ but Renly reckoned that that simply wasn’t true. Admittedly though, he couldn’t really be one to talk; he could count on one hand how many lectures he’d been to in his first year at university and at least Loras was doing something _slightly_ more productive than lying in bed with a hangover.

“Nice,” Jaime nodded. “Who for? Anyone famous?”

Renly shrugged; the girl in question wasn’t _that_ well known; she was supposed to be cutting edge or up and coming or something. “Do you know Val?” he asked. “She released her debut single a month or so back.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Val? As in that seriously hot chick who kind of reminds me of a Scottish version of my sister?”

Renly rolled his eyes. Personally, he thought that this edgy new Scottish girl was better looking than Cersei had ever been but he supposed he was rather prejudiced; he’d never really been able to see past the fact that his brother’s wife was a hateful bitch. “Yeah that’s the one,” he agreed.

Jaime frowned, chewing on the end of his pen again a little contemplatively. “Do you not care?” he asked after a while.

Renly frowned too. “What do you mean, care?”

Jaime’s eyebrow arched again. “Well let’s just say Brienne would probably not be over the moon if I took a job that allowed me to get up close and personal with Val,” he chuckled.

Renly just shrugged; he’d never really thought of it like that.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly hadn’t been expecting to miss Loras as much as he did when he went up to Edinburgh. It was strange; when they’d first been dating, Loras had been away all the time and Renly hadn’t thought anything of him coming and going without much notice. Recently, however, Renly had got used to him being around and reachable all the time. It was weird to think that he wasn’t with him in London right now. It showed a measure of independence that Loras hadn’t possessed for a long time and Renly supposed that on some level, he probably rather enjoyed the fact that Loras usually leant on him so heavily.

They spoke everyday while he was away but Renly was glad all the same when Friday finally rolled around. He’d agreed to spend the evening with Sansa and yet his eyes were already flicking to the clock. In his head, he was working out exactly how many hours were left before he’d get Loras back.

“So I’m guessing he’s back tonight?” Sansa laughed when she caught him looking at the clock on his living room wall for a second time.

Renly couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” he said, running his hand through his hair a little sheepishly. “About ten.”

Luckily, if there was anyone who understood about being a little too into your other half, it was Sansa. “Guessing you’ve missed him then?” she asked with a knowing smile. Sitting down on the sofa, she folded her arms as if she already knew she was right.

“Yeah,” Renly laughed, sinking down to join her. He didn’t bother to deny it. “Loads actually. And he’s only been gone three days.”

“Three days with Val…” Sansa sighed, sweeping her hair off her face a little wistfully. “My brother Jon will be so jealous. She played once at Edinburgh’s Fresher’s week before she made it big and Jon said she was amazing.”

“Yeah,” Renly snorted. “I bet it was her _music_ that he loved.”

Sansa’s cheeks dimpled in a smile. “Well yes,” she conceded. “But he did say she was great and I know he’d probably _kill_ to be in Loras’ shoes right now.”

Renly could well believe it. Men tended to be fickle when it came to those they found attractive. When he’d been younger, he’d have probably killed to spend an hour or two with the guy who was now his boyfriend.

“ _And_ Arya and Gendry think he’s an absolute legend.”

Renly rolled his eyes. This, he knew, had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Loras was collaborating with a hot Scottish chick. It had everything to do with the fact that he’d got up to almost sixty without noticing in a residential area while on his driving test.

“That’s because he’s a maniac like them,” he laughed. He could still remember some of the crazy things Arya had done over the years. One time she’d almost punched a traffic warden who was trying to give her a parking ticket before eventually settling for keying his car when he’d moved onto his next victim and wasn’t looking. The incident that stood out the most, however, was when she’d insisted on driving despite having severe conjunctivitis and had driven down the motorway almost blind. Quite how she’d survived that one was anybody’s guess.

“Yes,” Sansa agreed with pursed lips. “Well Arya didn’t pass first time either. She was only about five minutes into her test when she saw this boy from school who used to bully her, Polliver I think his name was, and she tried to run him over.”

Renly snorted. “Seriously? I’m surprised her instructor didn’t do more than just fail her.”

“Yes, well she _claimed_ that she ‘lost control of the steering wheel’…”

Renly had to laugh. He was surprised that anyone had bought that Arya was one of those people who didn’t do anything by accident and usually her intentions were written all over her face. He could believe though that she’d had it in for this Polliver; like Loras, she tended to hold grudges for an inexplicably long time.

“Talking of driving,” Sansa added. “You getting Loras from the airport?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “Course,” he told her adamantly. That was just one of those things that couples did; it was a nice gesture regardless of the fact that Loras could easily pay for a taxi. “It’s only London City though so it’s not exactly a trek.”

“Still romantic though,” Sansa smiled. She sounded a little faraway as she spoke and Renly tried to remember the last time she’d gone away. If he remembered correctly, it was when she’d walked in New York Fashion Week. He himself had taken her to the airport that time but he supposed that it must have been Sandor who’d collected her. No doubt they’d had some romantic reunion that Sansa was now reliving.

It was Renly’s phone buzzing that snapped him out of his thoughts and he tore his eyes from Sansa’s face as he took it out of his pocket. “Speak of the devil,” he laughed. “Apparently he’s just getting to the airport now.”

Sansa sat up a little straighter. “Does that mean he’s just sitting around with nothing to do? Could you ask him what the video is like?” Her face lit up. “Oh, I bet he has a copy! If I ask you super nicely, could you ask him to send it over?”

Renly sighed; he’d thought Sansa was over this by now but clearly not. “Sure,” he said heavily. He reckoned that Loras loved him enough to pander to her and he got his phone back out to send him another text. He made sure to say though that it was Sansa who wanted to see it and not him; he didn’t want to come across quite that star-struck by this new Scottish girl.

Luckily, Loras seemed rather amused. He agreed to humour her too and it was only a few moments later when he sent over what she was after.

“Here,” Renly said, passing her his phone. “Though Loras says it’s not properly edited yet, that you’re not allowed to send it to anyone else and that he will literally kill you if you do.”

Her face fell at that; she’d no doubt been itching to send it to Jon. She still took the phone eagerly though and Renly had to roll his eyes at the excitement on her face. It evidently hadn’t escaped her that she was one of the first people to see this video who hadn’t been involved in making it.

“Well I’m going to go shove dinner in,” Renly sighed as she scrambled to open the file that Loras had sent. With Loras already at Edinburgh, he and Sansa would really have to hurry up if he was going to make it to collect him on time.

He was only a minute or two putting dinner in the oven but by the time he came back Sansa was practically drooling all over his phone. He hadn’t expected anything different to be honest.

“I always forget how gorgeous your boyfriend is,” Sansa sighed, clutching a pillow to her chest. That faraway look was back in her eyes and Renly had to wonder whether sometimes she regretted settling for Sandor. He wasn’t exactly the sort of handsome man that she’d envisioned being with.

“Go on then,” he laughed. “Let’s see it.”

She passed him back his phone and Renly clicked play without any further ado. It seemed that Val had gone down the route that most female artists went down nowadays and the video opened with her in very little clothes, struggling through a snow storm of all things as she tried to make her way home alone from a night club. Judging from the lyrics, Loras was supposed to be an ex-boyfriend who she regretted splitting up with. He only appeared in what was clearly intended to be rose-tinted flashbacks of the time they’d had together and there was lots of cuddling up in front of open fires and lounging around in bed.

Renly felt quite strange as he watched. He wasn’t in the habit of paying much attention to what actually went on in music videos; usually they were just something he had on in the background that he zoned out. This one, however, had his eyes glued to the screen. He had to wonder if all music videos were this sexually charged nowadays or if it was just this particular one. He wasn’t used to feeling morally outraged like the mums on Mumsnet were and he was left wondering whether it was a sign of him getting old, or if it was just because it was his own boyfriend that he was watching. It was strange, he thought, the same boyfriend who wanted to take things slow with him seemed to have no problem basically simulating sex with someone else. That thought left him feeling rather empty.

He’d sworn blind to Jaime that he wouldn’t be bothered but he realised now that that was a lie.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly had imagined that the jealousy would have passed by the time that he picked Loras up from the airport but as he walked through London City Airport, he found that he still felt rather odd. It was a shame. He’d been looking forward all day to meeting Loras at the airport but the excitement was gone now. Instead he felt agitated and frustrated. Weirdly, he also felt a little betrayed. Not simply because Loras was kissing someone else- he’d grown used to that when they’d first dated as all Loras had seemed to do around Christmas time was sexually provocative advertising- but because Loras was clearly more comfortable kissing a girl on film than he was kissing him.

He had to force a smile though when he finally saw Loras come through arrivals. His presence clearly hadn’t gone unnoticed by his fellow passengers and there was a veritable crowd of people following him out of Passport Control, most of which were taking pictures. Renly himself would be in their frames soon and as unsettled and jealous as he was right now, he didn’t want them to capture anything but a smile on his face.

It was strangely easy to hide how he was feeling and Renly found actually that the jealousy he was experiencing eased into guilt as soon as he could see Loras’ face properly. He wasn’t quite sure why _he_ of all people should feel guilty but he did. Loras looked so happy to see him and here he was, furious on the inside.

It was with some difficulty though that Renly managed a hug. “Good flight?” he asked. His voice sounded oddly stilted to his ears.

Loras nodded, pushing his hair off his face. “Yeah,” he said. “But it’s good to be home. Kinda tired.”

 _Really?_ Renly wanted to ask. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t look tiring lounging around in bed with a very hot girl. He didn’t say anything though and he plastered another very fake smile on his face as he took Loras’ bag from him.

“Okay if I drive?” he mumbled.

Loras shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Probably best for you to show me how to drive at the right speed anyway.”

Usually Renly would have laughed but he only managed a twisted smile that was bordering on a grimace. He was glad though that Loras was letting him drive. Driving gave him something to think about, something else to focus on. All the same though, he quickly found that even behind the steering wheel he retreated back into his thoughts. As much as he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but linger on what he’d watched earlier, images running through his mind as if they’d been burned there. The more he thought about it, the more he knew that he was completely within his rights to be pissed off here. It was _offensive_ really that Loras would film something like this whilst shunning him.

His silence didn’t go unnoticed and they were barely out of the Docklands when Loras turned to him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Renly nodded and kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah,” he insisted.

“Then why are you being so quiet?”

“I’m just tired.”

Loras clearly didn’t believe a word but he didn’t push him; he just fell back into silence and stared out of the window at the passing cars. He was quiet the entire journey and it wasn’t until they’d parked outside his flat in Shoreditch and gone inside that he bothered trying to engage Renly in conversation again.

“ _Renly?”_ he said, and perhaps he’d been trying to talk to him for a while, for he sounded rather harassed.

Renly glanced up, snapped out of his thoughts. “What?”

“I just asked whether you’d mind if we went to bed,” Loras said with a sigh. Pausing, he scratched his head, clearly a little baffled. “I knew you weren’t listening. Are you _sure_ you’re all right?”

Gritting his teeth, Renly prepared to lie. “Yes-” he started to say before he changed his mind. “No actually,” he mumbled, staring down at Loras’ doormat. “I’m not.”

“Then what’s the matter?” Loras asked quietly. “What have I done?”

Renly paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know,” he sighed eventually. “I just feel kind of weird about this video I suppose. It’s strange seeing you with someone else.” That was a big understatement but Renly wasn’t sure how to put how he was feeling properly into words, not ones that Loras would understand anyway.

Loras bit down on his bottom lip. “But I did ask you and you said it was okay.”

Renly snorted, unimpressed. “You asked me if I was okay with you being in a video. You didn’t mention quite how _sexual_ it would be.”

Loras frowned, glaring at Renly a little. “Well what did you think I was going to do in a music video? Hand out lollipops?”

It was Renly’s turn to scowl; the least Loras could do was take his feelings seriously. “You know what, Loras? Under normal circumstances, I genuinely wouldn’t care that you were making out with someone else on camera. I get that it’s pretend, that it’s just a job. But it’s different with us.”

Loras’ expression didn’t soften. “What do you mean?”

“Well how come you’ll do all that with her when you won’t even come near _me._ ”

The words had come out a little harsher than they’d sounded in Renly’s head and Loras’ expression flickered; he was clearly becoming uncomfortable. “I will,” he protested.

That was a lie and quite simply, it pissed Renly off. “Well when was the last time you kissed me then?” he demanded. “Go on, tell me.”

Loras turned his face away. “Last week when I left.”

“ _Properly_ ,” Renly almost growled.

Loras looked a little flustered. “ _Recently_ ,” he said, taking a few steps backwards into his front room. He wasn’t meeting Renly’s eye now and he was scowling down at his shoelaces.

“No Loras, not recently,” Renly corrected. “The last time you kissed me properly was almost seven weeks ago.” _And that was when you bit my head off_ , he wanted to add viciously.

Loras blinked. “You’ve been counting?” He sounded a little small as he said that but there was anger brimming just below the surface.

Renly didn’t answer. He _had_ been counting but he could see why that upset Loras. “Well admit it won’t you,” he insisted. “We have a problem.”

Loras’ forehead furrowed. “But you said it was okay to take it slow.”

Renly wanted to laugh. “This is not taking it slow, Loras. This is avoiding the issue for so long that it _fossilises._ If we don’t have sex soon I think I might join a convent.”

Loras recoiled as if he’d been slapped and Renly knew he’d crossed a line. Hurt and anger was twisting across Loras face and it was clear he was embarrassed. Despite the fact though that Renly knew he’d probably regret upsetting him so later, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“Fine,” Loras snapped. “Come on then, if this is what’s most important to you then _fine_.” He grabbed Renly’s arm and steered him towards the hallway that would lead them to his bedroom. His grip was like steel, almost hard enough to bruise.

“I don’t want it like this,” Renly argued, refusing to move despite the force which Loras was applying to his arm. “I want you to _want_ it, Loras. Is that so much to ask?”

Loras narrowed his eyes and gripped Renly’s arm harder. “Well you can’t have it both ways. I’m like this because of _you_ so take it or fucking leave it, Renly.”

“So this is what I get, is it?” Renly asked, his own temper rising. “You’d think you could at least _pretend_ that you’re interested in sleeping with me. You know, just to spare my feelings or something silly like that. You’re clearly _good_ at pretending after all.”

Loras scowled and let go of Renly as if his touch had burned. “You have a hand, Renly,” he spat. “I’d suggest you use it.”

“Oh trust me,” Renly laughed. “I do. I _have to_ seeing as you won’t touch me with a barge pole.”

“Well then go fuck someone else,” Loras snapped, his hands balled up into fists. “Go find another _escort_ to hook up with. See if I care.”

“Yeah? Well maybe I will.” Renly didn’t wait to see how Loras took that and he yanked open Loras’ front door with more force than was really necessary. He didn’t look back as he slammed it behind him.


	98. Chapter 98

Renly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so furious. He felt he might as well have spoken to a brick wall for all the response he’d got from Loras. A little understanding or compromise was clearly too much to ask for. Apparently it didn’t matter that he was upset; he was just expected to be okay with the fact that his boyfriend would rather star in what was essentially soft porn than have sex with him.

Shoreditch High Street was heaving this late on a Friday night and Renly pushed his way rather irritably through the crowds of half-naked girls that were clambering drunkenly out of taxis. He didn’t really care for once if they toppled over on their ridiculous shoes; in fact, part of him hoped that they would. He felt somehow bitter seeing them. Half of them would probably get laid tonight and the other half would at least get the pleasure of rejecting some poor guy who asked for their number. All in all, they were an unpleasant reminder of what he’d been like before Loras had convinced him that dating that someone who flinched from his touch would be a good idea.

He didn’t know how far he’d walked when a poster caught his eye and made him smile bitterly. Dog-eared and bright pink, it was advertising a gay night in the building opposite, and glancing up, Renly saw that the venue was actually one he recognised. He’d never actually been, as he’d never had cause to come this far east until Loras had bought a flat in Shoreditch, but the name definitely rang a bell.

It had a good reputation and part of Renly wanted to go in just to spite Loras. He’d told him after all to go and find another escort and those words still rung angrily through Renly’s head. Pausing on the pavement as resentment coursed through him again, he let himself take a good look. There was no queue to get in yet but the smoking area outside was already tightly packed. Everyone there looked like they were having a good time and Renly was torn between wanting to scowl at them and wanting to join them.

He’d been staring for a good few moments when one of the men clearly noticed him looking. Sandy haired and with a cigarette dangling from his finders, he was stood against the railings closest to Renly. Their eyes met then and Renly felt that familiar shiver of excitement run up his spine when he knew that someone liked what they saw.

“ _And why not_ ,” he muttered bitterly to himself under his breath. Loras had told him to go and do what he liked so he bloody well would.

The bar was even more crowded inside and Renly had to dig around in his jeans for a fiver so that he could get in. It was so rare nowadays that he carried actual cash and he felt rather triumphant when he found one and could hand it over to the girl behind the counter.

“Aren’t you Loras Tyrell’s boyfriend?” the girl asked as she shoved the money somewhere out of sight behind the counter. “He lives right round the corner doesn’t he? We’re always hoping to see him in here.”

Renly just pretended not to have heard and held out his hand to be stamped. In his current mood, he was tempted to deny knowing Loras at all. Luckily, she didn’t press it and just waved him through so that she could serve the next person.

The bar was bigger than it had looked from the outside and Renly had to weave his way through room after room as he searched for a route that would lead him back outside. He hadn’t had a drop to drink but he was already feeling a little buzzed. The bass was reverberating through his chest and the floor was almost pleasantly sticky under his feet. He’d forgotten how much he liked going out and it felt oddly liberating to be here now. With Loras as he was, bars and clubs were always strictly off limits.

He felt a rather spiteful thrill when he finally found the smoking area and an even greater one when he saw that the guy who’d been looking at hadn’t moved. Up close, he wasn’t as attractive as he had seemed from outside but Renly didn’t think he particularly cared. He was hot enough in dim light and he’d do. Loras proved quite nicely that looks weren’t everything when it came to having a good time.

Renly’s presence clearly hadn’t gone unnoticed and the guy laughed when he turned and saw him. “Hey,” he said, almost having to shout over the noise around them. “Didn’t I see you outside?”

Renly just gave him half a smile. He didn’t bother to deny it.

“You with anyone tonight?”

Renly shrugged. Part of him wanted to tell him that he had a boyfriend back home who wouldn’t let him touch him but he bit it down.

“Want a cigarette?”

“Sure.” Renly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a cigarette but he took one now, leaning in so that the guy could light it for him. It was a cheap brand and the taste reminded him of nights out in university, of walking home through deserted cobbled streets and standing on bridges over the Cam. If he closed his eyes, he was nineteen again.

The guy smiled at him then and Renly got the sudden urge to laugh. It was almost _too_ easy, he thought. He’d only have to lean in slightly, tilt his head perhaps, put his hand on the guy’s wrist and ask if he had a place nearby. Men weren’t like women. Most jumped if you told them that you wanted to go home with them.

Indeed, the guy was clearly thinking the same thing. He’d leant in so close that his lips were almost at Renly’s ear and he’d placed a hand on Renly’s chest. “My flat’s just round the corner if you’re interested?”

Renly took a deep drag of his cigarette and leant in a little closer. It was tempting, more than tempting really. It would only take a nod of his head and he could get laid tonight, in half an hour most likely. It would be glorious after so long- better than anything Loras could give him right now even if he wanted to- and Renly could already imagine it. He’d be able to kiss without causing offence; he’d be able to touch where he wanted without being shown the door. It would be so easy where Loras was so difficult.

His mouth had made the shape of the word 'yes' before his conscience finally kicked in. And just like that, his thoughts migrated elsewhere. He was no longer in the darkness of an imagined bedroom; he was back in Loras’ flat, watching his face as he waited for Renly to come home and realised he wasn’t going to.

It was as if a switch had been flicked inside of him and Renly could see clearly again. He could see that Loras hadn’t meant any of the hurt he’d caused, that underneath the anger he’d probably been confused and frightened earlier.

“I can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, pulling away.

The guy cocked his head. He was clearly confused and Renly didn’t blame him. He was confused too. He’d felt so sure that this was what he wanted earlier but now he didn’t know why he was here. He’d struggled through four months with Loras only to almost throw it away in a moment of weakness, all because he hadn’t been patient enough to wait for Loras to calm down.

Biting back a sigh, Renly turned around.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras took a while to come to the door and for a good few moments Renly feared the worst. He knew better than anyone after all how poorly Loras coped when they argued. It usually tended to involve one mind-altering substance or another.

Loras seemed sober enough though when he opened the door and he must have calmed down too for he didn’t throw rocks at Renly and tell him to get out like Renly was expecting him to. Instead he just shifted a little awkwardly from foot to foot, staring a little miserably down at his pyjama bottoms.

“Oh,” he said quietly, running a hand through his hair. “You’ve come back.”

“Course I have,” Renly sighed. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d left now. Seeing Loras in front of him now, he knew that he was probably right about how Loras was feeling underneath all the anger that he’d lashed out with earlier. He seemed somehow small in the doorway, like a balloon that had been left to deflate.

Indeed, Loras was tellingly quiet as he stood there. He made no move to usher Renly in and instead just stepped back to let Renly pass before heading back into the living room.

Renly followed rather meekly. The hurt over this whole business with Val was still there but it was buried now, no longer simmering at the surface. His guilt had replaced it tenfold. He wondered if Loras could smell the other guy on him, if he could sense what he’d almost done.

Loras had clearly been watching a film when Renly had knocked. He’d brought his duvet down from his bedroom and he’d made a cosy sort of makeshift bed on the sofa that he was climbing back under now. Renly supposed that it was something Loras found comforting. This way he’d been able to be close to the door whilst he waited for him to come home. It also meant that he didn’t have to be in a silent bedroom while he tried and failed to get to sleep. The pills he took for his anxiety were on the table too and Renly was pleased to see that this time the packet clearly wasn’t empty.

“Can I join?” Renly asked.

Loras didn’t answer; he just lifted up his duvet so that Renly could climb onto the sofa too, even shuffling over so that he’d have more room.

It was probably meant to be welcoming but Renly wished he hadn’t moved. He rather wanted there to be no space between them. He didn’t dare ask him to come back closer though and he settled for reaching out to take his hand.

Loras took it, but not without turning it over in his palm. He bit down on his bottom lip as he took in the black mark stamped across the back. “Where’ve you been?” he whispered. Strangely, his tone wasn’t accusing. It was more resigned than anything and Renly thought there was something rather sad about that. As difficult as Loras was when he was angry, it was much harder to see him miserable.

Renly sighed and squeezed his fingers. “Nowhere important.”

“Satin?”

The question was a predictable one and Renly tried not to judge. “Satin’s back at university now,” he assured him softly. Under different circumstances, he might have joked that Loras ought to have visited him whilst he’d been in Edinburgh. Right now, however, he didn’t dare.

“Okay,” Loras murmured. He didn’t sound happy but he didn’t drop Renly’s hand either. He clearly knew that there was more to this despite Satin’s lack of involvement.

“I went to a bar,” Renly admitted.

Loras said nothing but the look on his face said it all. Renly knew exactly what was running through his mind right now.

“And I got talking to a guy,” Renly sighed, looking down at their entwined hands as the guilt threatened to drown him. “But nothing happened.”

Loras squeezed his eyes shut. “You sure?” he whispered. “I’d rather you told me.”

“And I would tell you,” Renly insisted. “But I swear to you, nothing happened. I was angry, _pissed off_ when I went up to him. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Loras pulled his hand away to run it through his hair. He’d opened his eyes now and there was humiliation etched across his face.

Renly swallowed painfully. “Come here,” he breathed. Gently, he tugged on the sleeve of Loras’ pyjamas. He was a little surprised when Loras consented to swivel round and lean against him but he took his chance and held him tight. He wanted to reach down and tuck the duvet up around Loras’ neck too but he knew that Loras wouldn’t tolerate it, especially not tonight. Loras clearly liked affection as much as the next person but there was only a certain amount of very obvious cosseting that he would put up with.

“I love you, you know,” Renly sighed, twisting a hand into his curls. “And I’m sorry.”

Loras raised his head. “What for? You said nothing happened.”

Renly exhaled deeply. He wasn’t quite sure how much difference there was between cheating and wanting to cheat. Both made your partner feel neglected and small. “But still,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry for saying all that earlier too. It was… _insensitive_ of me.”

Loras’ cheeks flushed pink again and perhaps he was remembering exactly what had been said, for he turned away from Renly, putting his head in his hands.

Renly inched closer again. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

Loras gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I hadn’t realised you were so upset.”

Renly sighed. He felt disappointed in himself really. He’d suffered in silence for months only to lose his temper in the most destructive way possible.

“You never said a word,” Loras whispered. “Not in the whole... seven weeks, was it?”

Renly winced. “I know,” he sighed. “I guess I wanted to stop nagging you so I bottled it all up. But maybe I should have said something. I guess tonight I just got to the stage where I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Loras nodded, fingers clenched around the duvet.

“And I’m sorry,” Renly repeated. “I shouldn’t have just sprung it all on you like this. You were tired and you’d just got back.”

Loras gave half a shrug, still staring at his knees. “It was better you say something now though than pretend everything was okay,” he mumbled.

“Yeah but I’d been looking forward to seeing you all week and then I had to ruin it.”

Loras raised his head only slightly. “I’d been looking forward to coming home too.”

Renly had to smile wryly. Any normal couple would have had been all over each other when one of them came back home from a trip. There would probably be a lot of sex, or at least a lot of nauseating cuddling. Biting back a sigh, he thought back to Sansa and her secretive smile earlier when she’d been reliving one of her and Sandor’s reunions. She wouldn’t believe it when he told her that he and Loras had been at each other’s throats tonight.

“And Ren?” Loras’ voice was barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t mean it when I said it was all your fault that I’m like this.”

“No?” Renly knew he was partially to blame.

“No,” Loras repeated. “I was already… _self-conscious_ about that sort of thing before I read that list.”

“I just made it worse,” Renly said grimly. He couldn’t think back on any of those events without feeling a knife twist in his stomach.

Loras shrugged, pushing his hair miserably out of his face. “You made it _real_ , I guess. Before, I could tell myself that the media didn’t know anything and shut it all out. I told myself that it didn’t matter if some DJ with a stupid name thought I was a disappointment, because you hadn’t thought that.”

Renly said nothing. He supposed this was part of the problem really. When he and Loras _did_ get onto this subject, he always felt so guilty that he never dared to say what he wanted to. He always just bowed his head meekly and wallowed in his guilt. Tonight though, he supposed that the damage was already done; he might as well speak up.

“I get all that,” he blurted out. “I really do. I know you must be in a really bad place with all the things that people have said about you but I just don’t get why you wanted to do this bloody video of all things? It’s like you’re _trying_ to make me jealous.”

Loras blinked; he clearly hadn’t been expecting that. For a good few long moments, he sat staring at the duvet. “You’d laugh,” he said eventually.

“I won’t.”

Loras sighed, hand moving to his face to fiddle with his hair. He clearly had no desire to talk about any of this and Renly was a little surprised when he did eventually open his mouth. “Well it’s a confidence thing I guess,” he said quietly. “I suppose I wanted to remind myself I’ve still got, well, sex appeal, I guess.”

Renly couldn’t understand for the life of him why Loras thought he’d laugh at that. There was nothing funny about it. “Well of course you do,” he protested. “You’re a _supermodel_ , Loras.”

Loras didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Yeah,” he agreed hesitantly, “but there’s a difference between being handsome and being sexy.”

Renly bit back a sigh. As much as he hated to admit it, he could understand where Loras was coming from there. He thought the same thing often about Sansa and Arya actually. Sansa was by far the prettier of the sisters- she was beautiful, gorgeous even- but often he had to think that it was probably Arya who had more sex appeal. It was a confidence thing, he reckoned, something to do with being comfortable in your own skin and not caring what anyone else thought of you. And as awful as it sounded, Renly could understand why Loras was making the distinction in regards to himself. He’d long lost that brash confidence that had once come so naturally to him.

“Yeah well you’re both,” he insisted anyway.

Loras just scowled. “If you say so.”

Renly didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. It was sad though, he thought, that a man as handsome as Loras felt he needed the validation of twelve year old girls on YouTube to feel sexy.

“So that’s why I did it, I guess,” Loras mumbled. “In some roundabout way I guess I thought I was doing you a favour. That I’d feel more like my old self.”

Renly took his hand again. “And do you?”

Loras shrugged. “Not right now.”

Renly bit back a sigh; he supposed it was hard to feel even a glimmer of confidence when you knew your boyfriend had almost cheated on you. “Come here then,” he told him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m coping fine.”

This time, Loras actually shifted so that he could lie between Renly’s legs and lean against his chest properly. “But you’re not,” he protested. “It’s clear you’re not.”

“No I am, Loras. I am.”

Loras sighed. Closing his eyes, he slipped a hand in between them and up Renly’s shirt. His fingers were warm and it made Renly’s skin tingle. “I’ll try harder, Ren,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Renly wanted to believe him more than he could say.


	99. Chapter 99

Renly supposed that they must have dozed off in the living room. When he next woke, he had one of the sofa cushions pulled over his head and a crick in his back so painful that he could have well believed that he’d slept on a concrete floor and not on a plush expensive sofa. To make things worse, he couldn’t feel Loras next to him anymore either, not even when he reached out groggily to where he should have been.

Blearily, he opened his eyes. The room was still dark but once his eyes had adjusted, he was relieved to be able to make out Loras’ silhouette at the end of the sofa. He was perched on the arm and seemed to be reaching down between the sofa and the wall.

“What you doing?” Renly mumbled, wrapping the duvet around his shoulders more tightly. It was cosy and warm and he wanted nothing more than for Loras to come back and join him.

“I’m looking for my phone charger,” Loras told him in a hushed whisper.

“What d’you need that for?”

“I’ve got stuff to sort out,” he said. “And I’m skyping that woman I see in a bit.”

Renly pulled the duvet over his head. “But it’s a Saturday,” he protested, stretching out to see if that helped his back. “You’re not supposed to do anything on Saturday. It’s an unofficial day of rest.”

“Well yeah,” Loras agreed, shifting off the arm of the sofa and coming closer. “But I was away Wednesday.” He paused. “And we’ve agreed that I’ll call whenever we argue. Regardless of whether we make up.”

Renly groaned. As much as he was supportive of Loras seeing his lady, he didn’t like to think of the two of them gossiping about him on a Saturday morning. It just made him feel more guilty than he already did.

“But go back to sleep,” Loras said softly. “I’ll be done by the time you’re up.” Leaning down, he gave Renly a kiss on the forehead and then he was gone, the living room door shutting behind him.

Renly merely rolled over and groaned again. He had to agree with Loras there. Whilst he had no idea what the time was, there wasn’t any light streaming through the curtains yet and that meant that it was too early to even consider surfacing. He prided himself on his love of sleep and as far as he was concerned, getting up before ten on a day you didn’t have to was a cardinal sin.

Even with that in mind though, he quickly found that he couldn’t get comfortable. His back ached too much to settle and his jeans were digging into him uncomfortably and whichever way he turned there seemed to be some part of him which protested. Reluctantly, he pulled himself up into a sitting position. Considering that he was uncomfortable as hell, he figured that he might as well get up, and rummaging down between the cushions of the sofa, he tightened his fist around his phone. He had to blink when he looked at it though. It was barely past five thirty.

Quite what Loras was doing up at this time was a mystery indeed and pulling himself sleepily up off the sofa, Renly padded into the hallway after him.

He found him sat at the kitchen table, talking to a woman over an iPad. A quick glance at the screen told Renly immediately that it wasn’t his counsellor though. This woman was very pale with short spiky hair- the polar opposite of the elegant black lady who usually came on a Wednesday.

Loras glanced up when he noticed Renly standing in the doorway. “Give me five,” he said quickly to the woman. “I’ll call you back.”

Renly wondered if he should apologise. He hadn’t meant to make Loras hang up. “I’m sorry,” he yawned, rifling a hand through his hair and trying to flatten it. “You didn’t need to stop on account of me.”

Loras just shrugged though and swivelled round to face him, leaning his arms on the back of the chair. “What you doing up, Ren?” he asked.

“It’s not even six yet,” Renly grumbled. “What are _you_ doing up?”

“I told you,” Loras said quietly. “I’ve got things to sort out.”

“Well what? Renly asked. He wanted to know what was so important that it couldn’t wait.

His tone must have been as no-nonsense as the sentiment behind it because Loras merely sighed and picked up his iPad. Silently, he brought up a web page and then passed it to Renly. His face was rather expressionless.

Renly had to squint to read it and he quickly saw that it was an article from the Sun, the Sun Online to be precise. That never boded well. Stannis had refused to even allow that newspaper in the house when he’d been a child and Renly doubted that the online version was any better.

 _Loras Tyrell up for grabs again?_ the title read. _Pictures exclusive to the Sun reveal the star’s new heartbreak._

_Snapped together this evening at London City Airport, Loras Tyrell and his partner Renly Baratheon seemed the very picture of happiness as they headed home together. Only hours later, however, pictures have surfaced of the highflying City banker cosying up to a mystery man in an East London club. Photographed getting up close and personal with each other, there was no sign of the recovering supermodel._

Renly grimaced and it wasn’t because the reporter had got his profession wrong. The photograph that accompanied the article was pretty shoddy quality, clearly being taken by a phone in the dark, but there was no denying that it showed him and Renly wondered miserably what he should say. The photo didn’t actually show anything more than them talking but the implications were awful. The guy’s hand was on his chest and they were standing so close together that they looked like they had either already kissed or were just about to. He supposed he should be glad that he’d fessed up to Loras yesterday at least; all the same though, he felt a little like he wanted to cry.

“I know it’s not good,” he gulped. “But it’s really not what it looks like.”

“I know,” Loras said wearily, “and I’ll sort it out. Just go back to bed.”

Renly wasn’t placated. “Just tell me what I can do to make it better,” he said. He failed miserably at keeping the misery out of his voice and he gripped Loras’ arm tightly.

“There’s nothing you can do, Ren.” Taking a deep breath, Loras straightened up in his chair. “I’m on it.”

“But I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

“I’m not,” Loras sighed. “I’ve got to ring my manager back and then the both of us need to ring my publicist. And then I’m going to speak to that woman.”

He sounded quite certain but it wasn’t until he gave Renly a hefty push that Renly shuffled off guilty back into the living room. By the time that he’d gathered up Loras’ duvet from the sofa, he could hear Loras talking again to his manager. That was a definite sign that he should be left to it but it was heavy hearted that Renly made his way to Loras’ bedroom.

The bed was bare but for a sheet and once he’d stripped off his offending jeans, Renly climbed onto it with Loras’ duvet. It was gloriously comfortable after spending the entire night on the sofa and yet Renly slept uneasily all the same. He found himself waking every twenty minutes or so- too guilty to properly relax- but it was only when his phone told him that it was eight thirty that he dared to get up.

Loras had the kitchen door shut now and Renly hovered outside it uncomfortably, wondering whether he could go in. Knowing Loras, he had probably shut it just to avoid waking him but he didn’t want to interrupt again and so he put his ear to the door. It should be easy to hear whether Loras was still busy talking or not.

He clearly was, and Renly was just pulling away when he heard a woman’s voice. It caught his attention immediately.

“And do you believe him?” she was saying. Her voice was crackly as if the internet connection wasn’t particularly good but Renly recognised it instantly as belonging to the lady he’d bumped into once in this very hallway. So many times he’d wondered what went on between Loras and his counsellor and now it seemed he was being offered the chance to find out. He couldn’t help but push his ear closer.

There was a long pause before Loras replied to her question. “Yeah,” he said. “I do believe him.” He sounded almost offended at the question and Renly felt a wave of fondness for him. It was reassuring that Loras had faith in him.

“And why’s that?”

“Because he’s not a liar,” Loras said vehemently. “And anyway, if he’d kissed him or left with him or anything, there’d be pictures and stuff.”

“And how are you feeling?”

“Shit really.”

Those words twisted like a knife in Renly’s chest and he was too busy swearing at himself in his head that he didn’t even catch what the lady said back to that. He’d known perfectly well that that was how Loras was feeling but hearing him voice it out loud made it somehow more real.

“Obviously everyone else is going to assume he cheated,” Loras has continued. “I’m embarrassed, you know. Sure, _I_ accept nothing else happened. But the media won’t. My parents are going to see this, my siblings. I don’t want everyone to think I’m being cheated on. This is the guy I want to spend the rest of my life with and I want them to like him.” He sighed loudly. “And you should see what the Daily Mail are writing. They’ve dragged up all that stuff from year ago, they’re saying that I’m clearly not satisfying him.”

There was a long silence during which Renly hoped the ground would open up and swallow him.

“And the worst thing is that that last bit is true,” Loras said quietly, his voice barely audible through the door. “I’m _not_ satisfying him.”

Renly closed his eyes and leant heavily against the wall. He could hear the pain in Loras’ voice as he said that. He’d never wanted any boyfriend of his to feel like that, let alone Loras.

“And do you _want_ to satisfy him?” It was the lady that spoke this time and she was as calm as Loras wasn’t.

“Course I do,” Loras answered, his tone impatient. “I want him to be happy. I want us to be like a normal couple.” He paused, and even through the shut door, his silence seemed bitter. “And I can’t face losing him. That’s just not an option.”

“But you can’t force yourself into something that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I damn well can if him leaving me is the alternative.”

Renly’s heart broke. He wanted to say that that wasn’t the alternative but he supposed that when it came down to it, it probably was. Or at least it would be eventually. He could give Loras time but he couldn’t give him forever. Sex was important to him and that was an unfortunate fact. It wasn’t going to change. Either Loras would have to or they would probably end up going their separate ways one way or another.

“If you say so.” Loras’ counsellor made no attempt to hide what she thought of what Loras had just said.

There was a pause and perhaps Loras was thinking a little more clearly because when he next spoke his tone was almost thoughtful. “But you know,” he said quietly, “sometimes it’s really tempting just to tell him to sleep with other people. To tell him seriously I mean, not just snap it at him when I’m angry. It would make my life so much easier. He could stop badgering me and we could have the good bits. You know, the days out and the dinners and the other stuff. I mean, I could still enjoy all that if we were in some kind of open relationship.”

“And you think he would be happier like that?”

“Maybe,” Loras mumbled. “I get the feeling that sex is sex for him. As long as it’s good, I’m not sure he cares who it’s with. And I think he’s had those sort of relationships before...”

He was right in part, Renly thought grimly. He’d been in several open relationships at university and technically he’d been in one with Satin. Although to be fair, he’d never actually ended up using his freedom with Satin; he’d never needed to. That he might want the same situation again was a logical conclusion for Loras to draw but it still made Renly’s chest tighten painfully. It was ridiculous to think that he’d put Loras through that. Loras was no Satin. He was a romantic and his feelings needed to be handled with care.

“Then why haven’t you told him that?” Loras’ counsellor asked.

“Because that would just make us glorified best friends,” Loras said. “And because I think it would drive me mad. I mean, it’s not like I don’t _want_ us to have a sex life. Of course I do, I love him, I want this to work so so badly. It’s just…” He sighed heavily. “Well, we don’t need to go into that again really.”

His counsellor just hummed.

It was reluctantly that Renly pulled away from the door and crept back towards Loras’ bedroom. As tempting as it was, he didn’t think he should listen to any more. Loras wanted to feel desirable to him again and that required that he keep at least some of his pride.

 

* * *

 

 

It was almost an hour and a half before Loras returned to his bedroom. He’d evidently composed himself a little since his talk with his counsellor because there was a smile- albeit a small and probably fake one- plastered on his face as he pushed open the door.

“Hey,” he said quietly when he saw that Renly was awake. “I brought you breakfast.”

Renly wondered if a nice gesture had ever made him feel worse. “You shouldn’t have,” he groaned.

Loras just shrugged. “It’s fine,” he said, holding out a plate. “It’s just toast and Nutella. Not like I made a gourmet dinner or anything.”

Even Loras couldn’t ruin toast and Renly took it from him gratefully. “Did you sort it all out?” he murmured, taking a rather guilty bite. Despite his protesting conscience, he was still hungry.

Loras shrugged, climbing under the duvet too. “Well it’s just damage control really,” he admitted. “All I could do really was release a statement saying that we’re still together and that everything’s been blown out of proportion.”

Renly fidgeted uncomfortably. He didn’t know what miracles he’d expected Loras to work but he felt awful. It was in silent shame that he chewed on the final crusts of his toast.

“Just prepare yourself,” Loras sighed when Renly said nothing. “The Mirror have taken pictures of me and Val in Scotland and speculated that we’re dating and that you and me have broken up. I doubt they’ll take too much notice of the fact that I’ve outright denied it.”

“Oh.”

“And of course _her_ team have refused to confirm _or_ deny which has basically just ignited suspicion further.”

Renly sank back down into bed. “Don’t worry about me,” he mumbled. “This is my fault anyway. _Karma_. I am actually in that photo, you know.”

Loras just sighed and shifted closer, tucking himself under Renly’s arm. “It’s done now,” he said. “It doesn’t matter.”

Renly didn’t think that that was what Loras actually thought but he was flattered that Loras was putting on a brave face for him. It meant a lot. “So what now?” he whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well we’re going to make things work, right?” Loras breathed. Propping himself up on his elbows, he leant over Renly, forcing him to look at him. There was a strange expression on his face and Renly got the feeling that it was a rather desperate plea. He didn’t need to have overheard Loras’ conversation with his counsellor to know how much Loras needed them to stay together.

“Course we’re going to make it work,” Renly sighed. He needed it to work too. He’d invested too much in Loras now for it to slip through his fingers.

Loras relaxed at that assurance and he settled back down under Renly’s arm, laying his head on his chest. “And I meant what I said yesterday,” he murmured. “I really am going to try harder with you.” As if to illustrate his point, he slipped a hand under Renly’s shirt like he had done last night. This time, however, he dipped his fingers lower, fingertips brushing under the waistband of Renly’s boxers.

“You don’t have to do that,” Renly said quickly, turning his head so that he could see his face.

“No I want to,” Loras protested. Whether it was a lie or not was hard to tell. There was a familiar stubbornness on his face but Renly reckoned that that was because he’d made his mind up about doing this and was determined to see it through, not because he was particularly comfortable with it.

Indeed, despite his rather steely expression, it was hesitantly that he pushed his hand further into Renly’s boxers and even more tentatively that he wrapped his hand round Renly’s cock. It didn’t take anything more than that though for Renly to feel it spring to life and grimacing, he had to wonder at which point he’d regressed back into being a teenage boy again. Even Loras seemed a little surprised but perhaps he found it encouraging too, for he gripped a little harder.

Renly squeezed his eyes shut as Loras began to move his hand. It was warm and firm and whilst this hadn’t been how he’d imagined Loras changing his mind about this, he couldn’t bring himself to stop him. He’d wanted him to be excited about it, not for him to feel like this was something he had to do in order to keep him, but now that Loras’ hand was wrapped around his cock, he was incapable of being the bigger person. It was only a hand job but his pulse was already racing and his breath was already coming quickly. The sheer fact that Loras was _touching_ him almost tipped him over the edge itself.

“I don’t know what you like,” Loras mumbled into his neck though.

His tone was a little sad, like he was sure that what he was doing wasn’t good enough, and Renly shook his head wildly. “This is perfect,” he insisted. He wasn’t sure if he meant it or not but Loras was _touching_ him and any details other than that one didn’t matter right now.

If it had been a lie, it was worth it anyway, because he felt Loras relax a little against him instantly. Some of the awkward tension went out of his hand and what he was doing felt ten times better for it. His movements were a little smoother, a little more elegant, a little more in line with what would be expected from someone who had presumably been doing this to himself since he was twelve or thirteen.

It was over far too quickly and Renly bit his lip so hard that he almost drew blood when he came, closing his eyes to relish the final few seconds. Loras had let go off him now but he could still see stars behind his eyelids, and he was sure that the earth had moved just a little bit.

“I know it’s not much,” Loras said quietly as he wiped his stomach clean with a tissue.

“You didn’t have to do anything,” Renly murmured. His release over now, he was beginning to feel sleepy again, as if a wave of exhaustion had washed over him.

“No,” he heard Loras say softly against his neck though. “I did.”


	100. Chapter 100

The next few days were hard, so hard that Renly almost started to dread leaving the house. People would ask awkward questions at work, stopping him in the corridors or harassing him at the water fountain to try and worm gossip out of him. Even Sansa had been awful, so desperate was she to know exactly what had happened and why. She didn’t seem to understand that Renly had no interest in talking about it for once and took his silence almost as a personal insult.

It was perhaps the papers that were the worst though. Every day there’d be some new article speculating about his and Loras’ private life and the press was practically stalking Loras again. They’d follow him everywhere, out of the house and to his college classes. It got so bad that on the third day, the university staff had to officially ban the paparazzi from the premises, just so that the students could get some work done in peace.

The only person benefiting from the whole sorry story perhaps was Val. Her music video wasn’t released yet but there was now a frenzied wait for it. She was still refusing to confirm or deny that something had happened between her and Loras and it was obvious to anyone with a brain that she was milking the situation for all it was worth.

It was as clear as anything too that Loras was embarrassed and pissed off about it all but to his credit, he didn’t say a word to Renly. And on the surface, life continued as normal. Loras went to his classes despite the reporters crowded outside the gates; he did the assignments he was supposed to; he booked to retake his driving test. Behind closed doors, however, Renly reckoned that it was a different story. He seemed to be taking calls almost daily from Margaery, conversations which he usually had in a hushed whisper out of Renly’s sight. And despite all his precautions to stop him overhearing, Renly knew all too well that Loras and Margaery’s conversations were rather heated. He knew too that Loras was on the defensive, and whilst it was heart-warming to think that he was defending him so fiercely, it seemed a great shame that he had to.

It was a whole week though before Loras actually brought up the issue they’d been fighting over.

“Ren,” he said one evening just after they’d finished dinner. “I’ve been thinking.”

Renly looked up from the washing up. “Sounds dangerous.”

Loras ignored him. “And I was wondering if I could come and stay over on Friday?”

“Sure. Any particular reason?”

Loras frowned, running a hand through his hair as he evidently thought about what he wanted to say. “Well, I figured it’d be nice for us to spend some time as a couple,” he said eventually. “You know, a proper couple.”

It took Renly a few moments to get what he was hinting at and he almost dropped the soapy plate he was holding. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Loras poked the floor with his foot. “I figured it’d be nice.”

Renly knew he was lying but he supposed it was good that Loras had finally decided to lie for his benefit. It was a small white lie intended to try and bridge the gap between them. It was too late for that lie to really work but he appreciated it all the same. He knew it must have been hard to tell.

 

* * *

 

 

Friday night was slow to arrive but Renly was glad when it did. Loras came over after Renly had finished work and he’d clearly made an effort. His hair was freshly washed, he was clean shaven, and when Renly leant in to kiss him hello, it was clear that he’d chosen a new aftershave too. It was presumably an attempt to help him feel a little more confident, an attempt that was likely very necessary.

If he was nervous though, it wasn’t obvious and he kept it together all the way through dinner. It was only when they went up to Renly’s bedroom on the tentative suggestion that they should _watch a film_ that the cracks began to show. He was very quiet as they climbed the stairs and it seemed to Renly that he was locked inside his own head. He showed no interest in choosing the film he’d suggested and instead he tucked himself up in Renly’s bed.

Renly did his best to put him at ease. He dimmed the lights so that they were almost off and he chose a film that he reckoned they would enjoy just in case Loras changed his mind and they actually ended up watching it. And when he got under the covers with him, he did his best not to let his hands wander in anticipation.

And Renly _did_ begin to assume that Loras had changed his mind. They’d got a good half an hour into the film now without Loras showing any sign of wanting to do anything more than cuddle.

Indeed, Renly had just decided that they’d better settle down for the night when Loras kissed him. It was unexpected, almost aggressive even, but Renly didn’t stop to complain. Aggressive was good; it was better than tentative and nervous anyway, regardless of whether it was simply a mask for both of those things.

And for all his avoidance of it, Loras hadn’t forgotten how to kiss. He caught Renly’s bottom lip with his own and he knotted his hands in Renly’s hair so tightly that he might have been trying to anchor him there. Indeed, with one hand twisted in Renly’s hair and the other up his shirt, he seemed like a man on a mission, and for once, Renly was rather glad of how stubborn he could be. He’d clearly set himself to doing this and do this he would.

It all made Renly’s breath catch in his throat. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he murmured against the seam of his lips.

Loras didn’t answer; he just pushed himself closer and gripped Renly’s shirt a little more tightly. He didn’t bother with the buttons and instead pulled it roughly over his head. The jeans were next and Renly felt a little bit like he was being yanked out of them.

He faltered a little though when they were both naked and Renly got the rather sad feeling that he didn’t know what he ought to do next. His hand went first to Renly’s hair and then to his cock, before he then changed his mind again and slid it round his waist. He didn’t seem to know where he ought to touch and it seemed to Renly that he was beginning to panic.

“Calm down,” Renly laughed breathlessly, pinning Loras’ arms to his side with his hands. “We’re going to take this slowly and if you want to stop at any time, you are going to tell me.”

Loras just scowled.

Renly leant his forehead against Loras’. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Loras grumbled. He refused to meet Renly’s eye, and a little self-consciously, he pulled the duvet tighter around his naked body.

They lay there for a good few seconds, the end credits of the film all too loud in the silence between them. It felt almost strange to be naked with Loras and for a moment Renly wasn’t sure what to do next either. He didn’t really know whether he had permission to touch where he liked. He presumed that he did seeing as Loras said they could have sex but that was never a given nowadays.

It was Loras who broke the embrace. Silently, he leant across the bed to retrieve the bottle of lube from Renly’s bedside drawer and pushed it wordlessly into Renly’s hands. It was a silent admission of trust, albeit forced trust, and Renly was grateful.

Forewarned by Loras that tonight he might get lucky, Renly had chosen a lube that he reckoned would be fun, one that was supposed to warm up in his hands. He wasn’t sure how it quite worked but he reckoned it would feel nice. He hoped it would be soothing and relaxing for Loras, like a warm bubble bath.

He started with Loras’ back, rolling him over onto his front so that he could trace a slippery line down from the nape of his neck to the base of his spine. The lube did what it said on the tin and Renly smiled when Loras turned his head in surprise.

“You put that in the microwave or something?”

Renly laughed and pushed his head back down, not particularly caring that it left Loras’ freshly washed curls a little sticky. “No,” he said. “I’m just that hot.”

Loras managed a small smile before turning his head back to the pillow. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for Renly’s poor attempt at humour.

He was clearly a fan of the warmth though and so Renly squeezed a little more of the lube into his hands before he touched him again. He really was a picture, Renly had to think as he ran his hands down his sides, a blank canvas of creamy skin for him to draw hot, wet patterns on. It was testament to his self-control that he didn’t take him then and there.

He waited until Loras had relaxed under his hands as much as he was going to before he moved down to his arse, and even then he didn’t go anywhere near his entrance. Instead he drew large circles around it, large circles which he hoped were teasing but which he feared were merely nerve-wracking. He knew far too well after all that Loras didn’t wholly want this, that part of him was probably fretting silently about what he’d agreed to tonight. It was a thought that left Renly feeling a little sad really, and one which made part of him want to merely wrap him up in his duvet and kiss him goodnight, but there was another part of him too which knew that Loras would consider that a failure, that he’d beat himself up about it.

It was with that in mind that Renly pushed a finger into him, resolved at least to try. He was more gentle with him than he’d ever been with anyone though and Renly reckoned that Loras would have been ashamed if he’d had any idea quite how fragile he’d been labelled as. It clearly wasn’t misplaced gentleness though; he was about as relaxed as Renly would have expected under the circumstances- which was not very at all- and Renly wondered several times whether they were fighting a losing battle here.

Eventually though, Renly felt like he could probably get away with adding another finger. He watched him carefully though, even more so when he finally stretched him to force in a third. The fact that they’d even got this far was surprising and somewhat pleased with himself, he leant over to kiss the back of Loras’ head to make sure it wasn’t hurting.

“Does it feel okay?” he asked. Asking if it felt good would have been far too optimistic.

Loras didn’t raise his head from where it was buried in the pillow. “Yeah.”

Renly didn’t know if he was lying or not but he tried to take him at his word. “And it doesn’t sting?” he added. That was always the danger with lube that did anything fancy.

“No. It’s fine.”

“So how we feeling?” he asked, lying down beside him. It was too awkward a position to keep three fingers in him but he managed two.

“Okay,” Loras said.

Renly smiled. “Is that ‘okay I’ve had enough’ or ‘okay I want to do more’?”

Loras still didn’t raise his head. “The second one,” he mumbled. He didn’t sound too sure though and Renly pulled his fingers out of him so he could slip an arm around his waist.

“You positive?”

Loras nodded.

“Here then,” Renly murmured, rolling him onto his back. He figured he would be most comfortable like this. It was how they’d always used to make love. It would be familiar to him.

Loras shook his head though. “Not like this,” he breathed.

“No?” Renly pushed his hair off his face for him. “What do you want then?”

“Anything else.”

Renly knew why. He didn’t think now was the time for swinging from chandeliers though. It was better that they went back to basics first. He just wished Loras could understand that.

“How about on your side then,” he suggested gently. He liked to think that that would be a very reassuring position for Loras. There would be a lot of skin to skin contact and he’d hopefully feel safe.

Loras scowled though. “Isn’t that kind of, well, boring?”

Renly shrugged. It was a little boring but there was a time and a place for boring and this was it. “I want to be close to you.”

Loras shrugged but he rolled over all the same. Behind the tough exterior, Renly knew he was probably glad. It was no secret that Loras liked being held. Renly could still remember him asking to be held the first time they’d had sex. He’d been a little baffled at the time. Never before had he slept with a man so desperate for intimacy.

Loras’ secret romantic side was no surprise to him now though and Renly shifted to lie behind him. Gently, he kissed the back of Loras’ neck, distracting him as he ripped open the condom and rolled it down over himself.

“Can I-”

“Don’t ask again.”

Smiling, Renly pushed a finger back into him. That smile quickly faded though. Loras had been rather tense earlier but he was much more so now that sex was clearly on the horizon.

“Loras,” Renly murmured, kissing the soft skin below his ear. “You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed,” was the stanch reply.

He clearly wasn’t and Renly wanted to sigh. In some respects, Loras was his own worst enemy. He was unwilling to admit when he was out of his comfort zone.

“Look,” he said, whispering to the nape of his neck. “If you’re not comfortable, we can try again sometime. It’s not a big deal.”

“I am comfortable,” Loras insisted though. “Just do it, Ren.”

Renly did sigh this time. He contemplated shaking some sense into him but he settled for reaching over him and pulling his knees up gently. It wouldn’t quite be a quick fix but it would certainly help. He was surprised Loras hadn’t already raised his knees actually; it was strange sometimes how Loras didn’t bother to make things easier for himself.

It took Renly a while to work back up to three fingers. It wasn’t as easy as he would have liked but he reckoned he’d definitely slept with worse. If experience taught him anything, it was often harder to get the fingers in than to get a cock in.

Renly felt a little nervous himself when he finally pushed into him. It felt good though, _close_ , like he and Loras were indeed a proper couple, and sighing, Renly rested his head on Loras’ shoulder. Part of him, the part which was still a teenage boy, wanted to throw caution to the wind and fuck him as hard as he usually did in his imagination. The rest of him, however, thought he might just possibly be content with what he had now. He was inside Loras and that in itself felt like an unbelievable achievement.

Loras was silent though and Renly wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. There was no cry of pain but nothing to indicate pleasure either.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked, moving a hand up his side. He’d have given anything to hear Loras make some kind of noise to show him he was enjoying it.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Gently, Renly pushed in a little more. It took all of his restraint but he tried to move very very slowly. Loras did gasp when he was fully in and Renly slipped an arm around his waist, pausing so that he could get used to it.

Loras, however, didn’t seem to appreciate that. He turned his head to look at him. “Go on,” he urged in a hoarse whisper. _Get it over and done with_ was probably the subtext.

One didn’t disobey Loras idly though and slowly, Renly began to move, one arm forced underneath him and the other wrapped tightly around his chest so that he could hold him. Gently, he built up a rhythm, one hand on Loras’ hip to try and encourage him to move with him. Although he clearly did his best to follow that rhythm though, Loras remained silent and Renly wished sorely that he could have seen his face. No doubt it would have revealed _something_ about how he was feeling.

There was another way to find out of course, and gently, Renly moved his hand to Loras’ cock, investigating. He was half expecting it to be completely soft. To his relief though, it was almost hard and Renly wrapped his hand around it. It was decent enough proof for him that Loras wasn’t in terrible pain at least.

Loras tensed immediately at his touch though, turning his head to look at him. “Renly?” he asked. His voice was wavering, hesitant. It didn’t sound like him at all.

“What?” Renly breathed. He tightened his hand, squeezing in a way he knew Loras used to like.

Loras bit his lip in what looked like a painful motion. “Nothing,” he whispered. His eyes clenched shut again though and he let his head fall forward onto his chest.

And Renly quickly understood what he’d been trying to tell him. Within a few strokes, Loras’ cock was no longer on the verge of being hard. All of a sudden, it had grown soft in his palm.

Loras must have realised at the same time that Renly did and he jerked away from him as if Renly’s skin burned to the touch. His cock had gone soft but the rest of him had gone rigid, as if he’d gone into flight or fight mode.

“It’s alright,” Renly tried to soothe. “It’s alright. It doesn’t matter.” Clamping his arms around him, he tried to keep him in place. Loras yanking himself away from him had been uncomfortable at best.

Loras didn’t even seem to hear him though. “Get off me,” he yelped.

“Whoa,” Renly said, “calm down Loras. You freaking out isn’t going to help.”

“Just get out of me.”

“I will when you relax.”

“I can’t.”

Renly winced. It was his first experience of someone being so tense that it hurt him too. “I’ll hurt you more if I pull out when you’re this tense.”

“Just do it. You’re hurting me. It’s hurting me.”

There was desperation in his voice and it frightened Renly a little. Wincing, he pulled out despite his better judgement. Loras shuddered and jerked awkwardly away from him. It seemed to Renly that he couldn’t breathe properly. He had his head in his hands and Renly wondered if he was hurt. It was quite possible.

“Let me look at you,” he said.

Loras shook his head almost violently. “No I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

“I just want to see if there’s any blood.” He grasped Loras’ hip and made to roll him over.

Loras slapped him round the face.

Renly blinked, releasing Loras’ hip a little shakily. It hadn’t hurt, not truly, but never before had a boyfriend hit him.

“Alright,” he said sharply. “I get the point. Bleed all you want then. See if I care.”

He didn’t wait to see if Loras had any response to that. Grabbing his dressing gown off the floor, he stalked out of his bedroom. He had one last glimpse of Loras before he shut the door and he was pissed off to see that Loras wasn’t even staring after him. He was face down on Renly’s bed, the covers clutched around him. If anything, it strengthened Renly’s resolve to leave him be. He would let Loras apologise this time; after all, the effort probably wouldn’t kill him.

As he should have known though, downstairs he didn’t feel quite as pissed off. His cheek still stung a very little but it was cold and empty downstairs and he quickly found that he didn’t even have the desire to wank. He turned the TV on regardless though; he’d decided that he’d wait for Loras to apologise and that was what he was going to do.

 

* * *

 

 

It was several hours later when Renly had to accept that he was waiting for something that was never going to happen, and sighing, he picked himself up off his sofa, padding up the stairs. As usual, it appeared he was going to have to be the first to bend.

Loras was sat in the corner of his bedroom when he came in. He looked utterly ashamed of himself and he bowed his head when he saw Renly in the doorway. Renly got the feeling he was cowering up here, too embarrassed to come down.

“You okay?” he asked, sinking down beside him. It was cold and hard on the floor and he wondered why Loras had chosen to sit here.

Loras nodded.

“You bleeding?”

Loras nodded again.

That was hardly a surprise and sighing, Renly went to the bathroom cabinet in his ensuite. “Here,” he said, bringing back a tube of cream that was only slightly dusty. “This will help a bit. I’ll let you put it on.” He wasn’t about to try and touch him again. He’d learnt his lesson for the evening.

Loras took it silently. “I should go home,” he murmured.

Renly shrugged. “It’s quarter to three but sure, if you like.”

“I figured you’d want me to go home.”

Renly sighed and sank back down onto the floor next to him. “Loras,” he said. “You know what I wanted tonight?”

“What?”

“I wanted us to enjoy ourselves, to spend the night curled up together with our hands in each other’s hair. I certainly did not want you to spend half the night on my floor and then run away back home.”

Loras bowed his head. “Well yeah,” he said darkly, scowling at the floor. “But then I hit you.”

Renly sighed. “Not hard,” he said. “And not on purpose. I guess I shouldn’t have tried to touch you.”

Loras shrugged. “You were trying to help me,” he grimaced. “And I hit you. I’ve never hit you before. Not even when I was high.”

“It was a reflex,” Renly insisted.

Loras just scowled down at the floor, his shoulders sagging. “One day, you’re going to stop making excuses for me.”

Renly sighed. He didn’t know what to say to that. He did make a lot of excuses for Loras but he liked to think that they were valid. Loras hadn’t exactly had an easy few years.

“Do you ever want that, Ren?” Loras asked, raising his head to look at him. “To date someone _nice_ , someone easy? Someone who’ll let you touch them without hitting you? Without lashing out?”

Renly shrugged. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But I’ve got to hold out hope that one day _you’ll_ be like that.”

Loras gulped, his golden eyes a little wide. “But what if I’m not?”

It was the sort of question that sounded a little frightening coming from Loras of all people and Renly sighed. “Well only you can tell me that, Loras.”

There was a silence then and Loras returned to staring at the floor. He clearly wasn’t able to tell Renly that.

It was a while before Loras lifted his head again. ““Ren,” he murmured.

“What?”

“I guess that if you… well if you wanted to get with some other people while I’m sorting myself out, I’d probably cope with that.”

“Really?” That hadn’t been the impression that Renly had got when he’d overheard that conversation with his counsellor.

Loras shrugged. “Sure,” he said miserably.

Renly just sighed. “Loras,” he said, taking his elbow a little tentatively. “Why are you saying this? I know that you wouldn’t be okay with that. That you’d be hurt and offended. I’m not an idiot.”

Loras shrugged again. “Well I want to keep you,” he whispered. “That’s what’s most important to me.”

Renly stifled a groan. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told him wearily. He wondered when Loras would realise this.

“But you would eventually, Ren,” Loras pointed out, bringing his knees up to his chest. “I know you.”

Renly ran a hand through his hair, trying not to pull it out. “We just have to work through this. I’ve no idea how but we’re going to do this.”

There was another pause and Loras gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “That lady I see, well she thinks we should, um, try _couples counselling_.” He said the word as if it were a dirty one.

Renly blinked. “She does?”

Loras shrugged, hugging his knees a little tighter. “Yeah.”

“How long has she thought that?”

“Since we got back together really.”

“And do _you_ want that?”

Loras sighed, fingers rifling through his tangled hair. “Not really. But we all have to do things we don’t want to do. That’s just how it is.” He paused, resting his chin on his knees. "And I want you to be happy."

Renly chewed on the inside of his cheek, taking all that in. He’d never contemplated the idea of going with Loras to his therapy but he contemplated it now. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it if he was honest.

Loras was looking at him though and he clearly expected an answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be nice; it's my birthday! ;D


	101. Chapter 101

“You’re going to couples counselling? Sansa hissed over the desk.

Renly rolled his eyes. “Could you say it any louder?” He glanced warily over at Jaime who was sat only a few feet away. “But yes, we are.”

“To talk about sex and stuff?”

Renly grimaced. He wondered if Sansa just wanted to announce to the whole company that he and Loras were having problems with their sex life. “Yes,” he agreed reluctantly, dropping his voice even lower. “But don’t repeat that. Loras is mortified.”

“I bet he is,” Sansa agreed, learning further in. “So when are you going?”

Renly made a face. “This evening. He’s going to pick me up from work and we’re going then. Before I get cold feet and change my mind.”

Sansa’s eyes lit up. “ _He’s_ going to pick _you_ up? Does that mean he’s passed his driving test then?”

“Yesterday,” Renly grinned. He felt a little proud actually. Loras had passed this time, without an idiotic lapse of judgement and without a single fault either. “You’ll have to tell Arya I’ll be wanting my car back.” He knew she wasn’t going to be happy.

Sansa smiled at that but she clearly wasn’t about to let them get off topic. “So are you seeing that lady he sees?”

“Nah,” Renly sighed. “Someone new. Apparently his lady says that I’ll feel _poorly represented_ if it’s with her. You know, because her duty of care is primarily to Loras and not to me.”

Sansa nodded, her ponytail bouncing. “Makes sense.”

“But this one we’ve chosen is awfully strict. I already have _homework_. Can you believe that? I’m twenty eight and I’m being set bloody _homework_.”

Jaime glanced up at that outburst, but he evidently didn’t think it interesting enough to bother giving them his attention. Both Renly and Sansa breathed a sigh of relief when he turned back to the documents in front of him.

“So what do you have to do?” Sansa whispered, her eyes still warily on Jaime.

Renly bit back a groan. “She wants Loras and me to write out a brief overview of our history for her and email it to her this afternoon.” He pushed his hair off his face. “That’s going to reflect just peachily on me isn’t it?”

Sansa looked sympathetic. “To be fair, Loras has his shameful moments too,” she pointed out. “He’s got the compulsive lying and that plate throwing incident. And that very large crack habit of his.”

Renly laughed. When said out loud it all just sounded ridiculous. “God knows what she’s going to think of us,” he sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras had been quite chatty when he’d picked Renly up from outside his office but now, stood outside this counsellor’s flat, he was completely silent. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and Renly could practically feel the shame radiating off him. No doubt he was mortified that it had come to this.

“So,” Renly laughed awkwardly, trying to ease the tension a little. “We going in or not?”

Loras glanced up at the tall building in front of them; he looked more than a little daunted and that was a strange expression indeed on his face. “Guess so,” he muttered.

The front door to the complex had a porter on duty and he did a double take when he saw Loras. Young and very spotty, he stammered and sputtered as he welcomed them in, apologising profusely over and over for the fact that the lift was apparently out of order.

“Seriously?” Loras asked, making the young boy turn a bright shade of red. “You’re telling me that in a building with _twelve_ floors the god damn elevator is out of order?”

Renly took his arm hurriedly. “It’s clearly not his fault,” he pointed out. “And taking the stairs will be good for us.” He glanced apologetically at the young boy behind the desk.

Loras grumbled at that but he did let Renly pull him through the double doors that led to the stairs.

Even Renly though was feeling a little put out by the time they got to the ninth floor. “I get why we didn’t drop by her clinic but I don’t see why she couldn’t have come to us,” he puffed. “Are you a VIP or what?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “It’s because she wants us on _neutral_ territory. Neither my place or yours.”

Renly mimicked his words back to him irritably, leaning heavily against the wall to catch his breath. “Well go on then,” he said. “Are we going to ring that doorbell or not. Please tell me I haven’t climbed nine flights of stairs for nothing.”

Rather obediently for once, Loras pressed the doorbell. It seemed to echo around the empty corridor all too loudly and they looked at each other a little helplessly. Renly reckoned that if the lift hadn’t been broken, they’d have probably made a quick getaway.

The door opened then and Renly hurriedly straightened up. Loras knew that he was dreadfully unfit but this new lady definitely didn’t have to be privy to that information. He needn’t have worried though about her being a terrifying presence. Small and smiley, she ushered them in very pleasantly. She’d evidently prepared too for their session as a selection of biscuits and cake was laid out across her coffee table.

“Please help yourselves,” she said as she closed the door behind them. “I’ll just get us all some coffee if you’d like?”

“That’d be nice,” Renly told her. The smile on his face was plastered on though and he sunk down onto the leather sofa with more than a little unease. Despite how informal this counsellor was evidently trying to make everything, it had hit him now what they were about to do and he felt a little like a five year old child again, about to be chastised by someone older and wiser than him for all the naughty things he’d done.

“It’s nice of her to put out cake and get coffee,” he whispered though to Loras. He would not let it show how uncomfortable he was.

Loras shrugged though. “I’ve paid her five hundred quid for this. I dare say she’ll bear the expense.”

That made Renly feel better about eating her out of house and home and he helped himself immediately to a French fancy. He demolished it pretty quickly and he’d finished his third by the time that the lady was back with their coffee.

“So,” the lady said as she sat down opposite them. “I’ve seen what both of you have sent over.” She handed them each a coffee. “And I’ve got encouraging feedback for you. I ask all the couples I see to do this exercise and usually I end up with reams of _he did that_ and _she did this_. Very rarely do I get two accounts that by and large match up.”

Renly managed a forced smile as he poured milk into his coffee from a pretty little jug on the table. He was glad now that he’d used his lunch break to write up something decent. “And that’s good right?”

The lady smiled back at him over the table. “It is good. And you might be interested to know perhaps that he was much less harsh on you than you were on yourself.”

Renly let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. That surprised him as he’d half feared Loras would slate him. He turned to Loras expectantly.

Loras just shrugged. “What?” he mumbled. “You’re not all that bad.”

The lady laughed. “The other good thing I can tell you is that looking at you together is good too. Most couples who I see who’ve decided to take this step can clearly not stand the sight of each other by this point. Half of them don’t arrive together and less than half manage to sit together without looking like they’ve been forced to.”

Renly shuffled a little closer to Loras. He was glad that she’d picked up on their solidarity here. It eased his nerves a little to know that she hadn’t taken one look at them and deemed them a hopeless case.

The lady put her glasses on. “One thing that _neither_ of you touched on though is why you’re here today. And that’s very telling too.”

Renly shifted a little uncomfortably. He reckoned she’d hit the nail right on the head really. Not knowing whether Loras would read it or not, he’d steered clear of the accusations that sometimes set his temper off. He’d long learnt that Loras didn’t enjoy them discussing the reasons for his apparent lack of interest in sex.

“So first things first then,” she pressed. “If one or both of you could explain to me why you’re here.”

Renly looked at Loras and he promptly flushed pink. He did, however, take the hint and speak first. “We’re here because we have problems- well because _I_ have problems with intimacy.”

Renly took his hand and squeezed it. “I think what he means to say is that we’re not, er, sexually active together.” It was hard but he reckoned it had to be spelled out. Loras perhaps disagreed though, for he turned even pinker. It was pitiful to see and Renly couldn’t help but feel terribly sorry for him.

“And presumably you want to be?” the lady asked.

“Well yeah,” Renly said. “Obviously.”

“And yourself?” She turned to Loras.

“Course.” Loras’ voice was hoarse though; he didn’t sound too convincing.

“So what’s the issue here then?” she asked. “Both of you claim you want a sex life and so what is it that’s preventing the two of you having one?”

Renly resisted the urge to make a face. He wanted to ask her whether she’d actually _read_ what he’d sent in: he thought it rather obvious what was putting a spanner in the works. He supposed grudgingly though that this was the point of these sessions, that they needed to get the things that both of them knew but sidestepped round out into the open.

It was Loras who spoke first and he did so through gritted teeth. “I sometimes get a little anxious,” he muttered. He looked absolutely miserable as those words left his mouth, as if he wanted the sofa to swallow him up.

“Which is down to some of the things I’ve said in the past,” Renly added hastily. He wasn’t going to let Loras suffer alone here.

“And so you find the prospect understandably nerve wracking?” the lady supplied.

Loras shrugged. “I guess.”

“And that’s the only reason why the two of you aren’t having sex?” she asked.

Loras shrugged again.

“Well I think the two of you need to have a conversation about that.” She looked pointedly at Loras. “Perhaps in the privacy of your own home if that would be easier.”

Loras merely squirmed a little uncomfortably.

 

* * *

 

 

They left with another piece of homework, one which Renly was actually far more comfortable with than he had been with the last. It was what the therapist nauseatingly referred to as ‘intimacy building sessions’. These were very simple and basically involved both of them taking their clothes off and being in each other’s presence. It was as easy enough task, one that was almost reassuring after what could definitely have been the most painfully awkward hour of his life, and Renly was almost looking forward to it. He felt like it was long overdue that he prove to Loras that clothes could come off without him assuming they were going to have sex.

“So,” Renly laughed when they were done with dinner. “I’m going to have a bath.”

Loras cocked an eyebrow. “You say this like I ought to have an opinion on this.”

“Want to join? If we stay in there half an hour, we can start ticking off our list.”

Loras rolled his eyes but he followed him into the bathroom all the same.

The water was hot and inviting when Renly dipped his fingers in. Bubble bath was always necessary though and he poured in three times the recommended amount just to be on the safe side. He’d just screwed the cap back on when Loras clearly got bored of waiting and stepped in. He’d settled himself at the comfy sloped end before Renly even had time to complain.

“How come I get the tap end?” Renly laughed. “It’s my bath.”

Loras shrugged, flicking foam at him. “You snooze, you lose.”

Renly rolled his eyes and got in too. His bath was bigger than the average one but he still had to contort a little uncomfortably to fit in. He reckoned Loras was lucky that he didn’t get a rather hard foot in the crotch to be honest.

“So this isn’t too difficult?” he laughed when Loras eventually shifted his legs to make more room for him.

Loras shrugged. “Does it count as being naked when there are this many bubbles?”

“Sure it does,” Renly laughed. He leant back lazily against the back of the bath before remembering why that was a bad idea. “So this conversation we’re supposed to have,” he said softly. “Now’s as good a time as any right?”

It was amazing how just a few words could make Loras turn surly and bad tempered. “Do we have to?” he mumbled. “I was actually enjoying myself.”

Renly flicked a few bubbles his way. “I know,” he sympathised. “But just get it over with and then we can go back to enjoying ourselves.”

“You already know,” Loras muttered. “I think.”

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“Well it’s still embarrassing.”

Renly sighed. “Okay, well I’ll make this easier for you, I’m guessing you want to talk to me about struggling to get an erection.”

Loras flinched violently. He said nothing though, just staring a little miserably into the bubbles.

“You’re right,” Renly told him. “I did know.”

“Beric told you?”

Renly wanted to roll his eyes. To be fair, Beric _had_ mentioned it to him but it would have been obvious even if his old school friend hadn’t said a word.

“Or Satin then?” Loras muttered.

Renly winced. He still didn’t know what had gone on there; he supposed now that he probably never would. “Nobody had to tell me, Loras. I know because I’m not a complete idiot.”

Loras’ face flushed pink and it definitely wasn’t from the hot water.

“So I’m guessing that’s tied up with the anxiety?”

Loras scowled, raising his head. “And the anti-depressants. And the medication that I take for my anxiety.” It was strange but he seemed desperate for it to be a drug-induced problem and not one that was in his head. Perhaps he felt there was less shame in that.

“So you can’t even by yourself?” Renly asked softly, ignoring the way the tap was digging into his back. His mind was on what he’d seen in Loras’ browsing history and he wondered if he was about to be lied to.

Loras shrugged again, and perhaps he’d decided to go with the truth, for he turned yet pinker. “Mostly I can,” he mumbled. “But sometimes, well sometimes I can’t finish.”

“So it’s probably a combination of stuff?”

Loras twiddled his wet fingers. “I imagine so.” For a moment, he looked like he was going to say more and then he stopped himself.

Renly prodded him with his foot under the water. “Go on.”

“Well I just can’t help it,” he mumbled. “When you come near me like that, I panic. I think I won’t get it up and you’ll be insulted, or I won’t come and you’ll be insulted. Or I’ll worry that even if everything _does_ go okay then it’ll be a bit boring, that you’ll lie there thinking about what sex was like with someone else.” He screwed his face up. “And then worrying about being a disappointment tends to cause the first problem anyway, so it’s like a circle that keeps going round and round.”

Renly blinked, trying to take all that in. He hadn’t been expecting Loras to say quite so much. “I wouldn’t be insulted, Loras. You know that right?”

Loras shrugged, trailing a hand rather irritably through the bubbles. “I would be if I were you.”

Renly wanted to laugh. “Well I’m not you,” he pointed out. “You’re just a little more highly strung.” _And way more sensitive_ , he wanted to add.

Loras just leant against the back of the tub, drawing his knees up to his chest. He looked strangely vulnerable like that and Renly reached out to swivel him round, pulling on his wrist until he consented to shift between his legs and sit back against his chest. He was clearly still embarrassed and Renly wrapped a wet arm around his chest.

“What were you thinking, Lor, the last time we had sex?

“Last week?”

“No. The time before that. After you’d read that list.”

“I don’t know,” Loras muttered. “I was pretty drunk. And I did my best for a long time to erase that entire night from my memory.”

Renly ran a wet hand through his curls, enjoying how frizzy it instantly turned. “Try and remember for me?”

Loras sighed, leaning back more heavily against him. “How I was feeling at the time? That’s what you want to know?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I was kinda happy I suppose.”

“Yeah?” Renly didn’t know why he felt so surprised. He could still remember how desperate Loras had been for any attention from him back then.

“Yeah,” Loras repeated quietly, his voice still echoing around the bathroom all the same. “I mean, that was what I’d wanted for ages. I thought at that stage that we’d be getting back together and I was getting way ahead of myself with fantasy after fantasy.”

There was an unsaid part of that sentence and Renly flicked a little water at him. “But?”

“But I guess I was a little terrified too,” Loras sighed. “I’d just been shown that list and I knew I was fumbling, that I was lying there a little like a dead fish while you kissed me, but I couldn’t bring myself to try anything else either.” He turned his face away to the tiled walls. “I was trying to remember what you liked but figured I’d probably never really known even what you actually liked, and then I was trying to work out what you always _might_ have liked me to do.” He exhaled loudly. “And then maybe more of the alcohol kicked in and I figured there was no point worrying about it all and that I should just accept it would probably be dull and try and enjoy myself.” He paused, scooping up a few bubbles. “It was better after that, and easier once you were actually inside me. I’d drunk too much for it to hurt. We felt close, and I could let go a little. Your fingers were in my hair and you sounded at least like you were enjoying yourself.”

Renly chewed on the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t remember much more than that himself actually; that whole evening had blurred into a bad memory. “Were you hard back then?” he asked.

Loras shrugged. “Enough for you not to notice. You didn’t really touch me much if I’m honest.”

Renly grimaced. That didn’t surprise him. The whole affair had been one rushed mistake. They hadn’t even paused to get a condom and he was well aware that there was always one in his wallet or inside coat pocket. It was just that he hadn’t bothered to look.

“So all things considered, it wasn’t that bad?” Renly asked.

Loras shrugged.

“So we’ll just get you trashed,” Renly laughed. “Simple.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.”

“In all seriousness though, Loras,” Renly sighed, wrapping his arms around his very slippery middle. “It doesn’t actually matter too much if you don’t get it up. It matters if _I_ don’t get it up, seeing as I’m topping and everything. But what matters for you is that you’re enjoying yourself, that you’re comfortable.”

Loras shrugged. “Guess.”

“And I’d never laugh or anything.”

“I know.”


	102. Chapter 102

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am back on the wagon! Got carried away with Christmas...

Renly had initially been excited about helping Loras choose his first car and yet that excitement had faded into stomach-churning anxiety when Loras had told him that his brother Garlan would be joining them.

“Um Loras,” Renly ventured, as he programmed the postcode of the dealership they would be meeting at into the sat nav. “Garlan’s going to be _alright_ with me, won’t he?”

Loras merely drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of Arya’s Panda. “Yeah,” he said shortly, his eyes on the road for once. “Why wouldn’t he be?”

Renly ran his fingers through his hair a little wearily; he thought it obvious. “I don’t know? There was that whole business about me _cheating_ on you with that guy in that bar.” He made quotation marks in the air. “And your family must have seen all the press and everything.” There was no way they couldn’t have done, Renly thought. Those pictures had been printed in every tabloid worth its salt and now that Val had actually released her music video, they had been _re_ printed again and again.

Loras bit down hard on his bottom lip though, a slight frown on his face. “They didn’t mention it,” he said.

Rely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s clearly a lie,” he protested. “I’ve met Margaery way too many times to even consider believing that.”

“Fine.”

“So genuinely, how did they take it?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to know but he felt he had to. It wasn’t like Loras wasn’t close to his family.

“They took it how they usually take bad revelations about my private life,” Loras said, his voice half a sigh. “My dad refused to acknowledge it and made my mum deal with it. My mum phoned me up at an ungodly hour the next morning and told me that if I wanted to come home and cry, that was okay. Willas said nothing because he’s the only sensible one in my family and he actually gets that when I’m getting shit from the papers about my private life I usually don’t want to talk about my private life with them either. And Margaery, well she took it like she usually does too.”

Renly gulped, shifting a little uncomfortably in his seat. That didn’t surprise him. “And Garlan?”

“Oh Garlan. Well Garlan told me that he’d come and beat you up if I wanted him to to but that if I said it was all misconstrued bullshit then that was good enough for him.”

Renly laughed. Somehow even the thought of the big and burly Garlan coming for him didn’t scare him half as much as the pintsized Margaery. “So he won’t be all mad and awkward then?”

“Nah,” Loras said. “Garlan’s not like that. He’s not Margaery. And anyway. He’s got more important things to think about. Like the fact he’s soon going to be up to his ears in formula and baby food.”

Renly had almost forgotten that Garlan’s girlfriend was pregnant. “Oh yeah,” he said. “When’s she due again?”

“January? February? I forget. That’s why he’s coming with us today actually. Apparently their current car won’t fit the pram in…”

Renly had to smile. “God,” he said, staring out at the road ahead with a chuckle. “I wonder if he’s realised what he’s let himself in for yet? I mean, he’s still young, and he’s going to have some screaming child come along in a few months. That’s it, you know. Your whole life turned upside down.” He still remembered when Joffrey had been born. Even Cersei with her hired help had seemed tired.

Loras just shrugged though. “Don’t you ever think about it? I mean, we’re not exactly teenagers anymore.”

Renly blinked. “I am twenty eight. And you are twenty three.” That wasn’t exactly old yet in his opinion.

“Yeah,” Loras agreed though. “So not teenagers.”

“Yes but _twenty_ eight, Loras. Not thirty eight.” Renly grinned, swivelling to face him in the car. “I get that you want a family at some point but it’s not happening a day before I hit thirty five.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “How about thirty then?”

“That’s like a year from now,” Renly laughed. “Not happening.” It wasn’t happening even if Loras turned up with a baby in a basket like he had done with the puppy.

“Well it was worth asking,” Loras muttered, tapping the steering wheel a little sulkily.

“How about a compromise,” Renly said. “When _you’re_ thirty.”

“That makes you thirty four and a half. What kind of compromise is that?”

“A good one?”

“No it’s not,” Loras snorted. “I am rejecting that compromise and we shall be renegotiating this some other time.”

“Yeah,” Renly agreed. “Like when you’re thirty.”

Loras just rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

The car dealership was beautiful, Renly had to think, or at least in its own way. The sleek shiny cars seemed to stretch on for miles, rippling in the winter sunshine. It was a maze of sheer luxury and Renly rather enjoyed it as the car salesman skilfully steered them through it all. Being sold to shamelessly didn’t feel so bad when you were spending the equivalent of small change.

“How about this one?” Loras said, gesturing to a car that was light years away from the rather more sensible one that Garlan had just pointed out.

Renly touched it lovingly. He didn’t know much about cars but this one was electric blue and shiny. It was a two door though and they’d already ruled them out as impractical. Or at least so he’d thought.

“You know,” Garlan grinned as he too touched the bonnet. “I think I’m starting to understand why you two are together.”

Renly wanted to laugh. He’d been apprehensive at first but now he was glad that Loras’ brother had come. If it had just been the two of them, he knew that they would have walked out with something very flashy, very expensive, and very very unsuitable. Garlan at least made them feel _a little_ ashamed of their outrageous taste.

“Would I be able to get insurance on this?” Loras asked, turning to Renly wistfully.

Renly shrugged his shoulders, laughing. “Why you looking at me? I’m a lawyer, Loras. Not an insurance underwriter.”

“But it’s the same thing basically right?”

Renly raised an eyebrow. “It’s really not.”

Loras shrugged and turned to Garlan. “I still have no idea what he actually does.”

Garlan grinned. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I thought he was one of those lawyers who defended people in court for ages.”

Renly hadn’t known that Loras had ever thought that but it didn’t surprise him much. Loras wasn’t exactly _au fait_ with the jobs that people did in the real world. “When did you realise I wasn’t that?” he asked.

“I dunno. I guess when you never mentioned court and stuff? And after a while it got kinda obvious that you did nothing but sit at a desk all day and chat with Sansa.”

Renly just rolled his eyes and pulled Loras away from the electric blue beauty that he really shouldn’t buy.

 

* * *

 

It was a week or so later that they actually drove a car home. It was an Aston Martin that Loras had chosen in the end, a four door one that _vaguely_ matched the criteria that Loras had gone looking with.

It was a beautiful thing indeed and Renly couldn’t help feel a little like James Bond as he sat in the passenger seat. That was something which required a great feat of imagination seeing as they were currently sat in heavy traffic at a red light but he’d managed it. It was a glorious daydream, and only slightly superior to imagining showing it off to Sansa and Arya.

“Can we stop by Clapham Junction and see Sansa?” Renly asked as the light finally turned amber and the ugly Volvo in front of them sputtered back into life. “It’s almost on the way home.”

Loras shrugged. “Sure. I wanted to ask Sansa something anyway.”

Renly cocked his head. “You. _You_ wanted to ask Sansa something?”

“Yes I did,” Loras said. “Is that a crime?”

“No. Just a surprise.”

It took them almost twenty minutes in the traffic and when they finally got to Sansa and Arya’s flat Renly had to wonder whether they’d made a rookie error in dropping by unexpected. It was Arya who answered the door and to Renly’s immense surprise, she was barely dressed. With only a large checked shirt of Gendry’s to protect her modesty and her hair all over the place, it was obvious what she’d just come from.

“Interrupting something?” Renly laughed.

Arya stuck her tongue out at him.

Renly made a face. “Don’t you stick your tongue out at me. I don’t care to think where it’s been.”

Arya just rolled her eyes. “Sansa’s just gone to the shop with Sandor. Wait in the kitchen if you like.” She made to go back upstairs, not seeming to care that Gendry’s shirt had ridden up dangerously high.

Renly grabbed the back of it and tugged her back. “Actually Arya, it was you we wanted to see. Loras has just bought a new car. I thought you might like to take a look.”

Arya’s face lit up. “Sure,” she said. She turned back round. “OI,” she shouted up the stairs. “GENDRY. Get down here.”

It was a good few moments before Gendry came thudding down the stairs and like Arya, he was only half dressed, just in a pair of jeans. He seemed to have got even bigger than when Renly had last seen him shirtless and Renly had to remind himself that Gendry was his nephew to stop himself whistling appreciatively.

Loras, however, did a double take, his eyes going straight to Gendry’s chest. “Why can’t you look like that,” he whispered, stood half behind Renly.

Renly rolled his eyes and reached to take his hand. “Get Arianne to hook me up with some steroids and sure, I’ll look like that for you.” He didn’t feel too threatened if he was honest. Gendry had the better body alright but he was the better looking out of the two of them. He knew too that Loras was no doubt feeling out of place here and that the comment was probably all false bravado.

Indeed, it was a little awkwardly that Loras shook hands with Gendry. At first Renly thought it was simply because Gendry was shirtless and had clearly just come from having sex. Then he remembered that Gendry had been the one to pull the very incriminating packet of white powder from Loras’ jacket pocket. He doubted somehow that Loras had forgotten that.

“So what’s the occasion?” Gendry asked, pulling his beltless jeans up as they threatened to slip down.

It was Arya who answered. “They’ve just spent like a hundred grand or something on a car.”

It had been nearer two hundred grand actually but that seemed to be a good enough answer for Gendry and he shoved his feet into some old boots by the door, chucking a jacket on too for warmth. Arya followed suit and Renly had to think that she in particular looked very odd. There was something about the combination of Doc Martens, bare legs and one of Sansa’s fur trimmed coats that looked just a little peculiar.

They’d parked the car a few yards down the road and Gendry and Arya didn’t need telling which one it was. Even in the dark they spotted it as if they had x ray vision.

“It’s beautiful,” Arya almost purred as she got close enough. Renly had a funny feeling that that might be the voice she used in bed.

Gendry too touched it lovingly, peering inside as well so that he could see all the finer details. The tinted windows got in the way a little though and Loras had just chucked him the keys when they heard a rather shrill cry from across the road.

“Arya!” Sansa cried. “That’s my new coat!” She stopped in her tracks though when she saw what they were looking at and she almost dragged Sandor across the road despite the fact she was in heels.

“I thought you said you were going to get something practical?” Sansa asked a little incredulously as she let go of Sandor’s hand to run her hands over the shiny paint.

Loras just shrugged. His eyes were on Sandor and like most people who came across Sandor Clegane, he seemed a little lost for words.

“It’s practical _enough_ ,” Renly laughed, filling the silence for him. ”It even has folding seats.”

Gendry snorted, running a hand over his stubble. “I never thought I’d see a bloody Aston Martin with folding seats... Somehow I can’t see you guys cramming your Ikea furniture in the back.”

“But it _has_ back seats,” Renly laughed, leaning lazily against the back of the car. “That’s the point here. I mean the people in the back will have to be very very thin as there’s less room than in Arya’s Panda but I feel that’s inconsequential here.”

Duly, Arya opened the back door and had a look. “Bloody hell,” she muttered. “Can you even fit in there, Renly?”

Renly had to laugh. Whilst he and Garlan had managed to get in the back when Loras had taken it for a test drive, it had possibly been one of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life, second only to flying Ryanair once. “Yes I can get in there,” he insisted though. “I can’t sit with my knees straight but who cares when you can watch TV in the back.”

Sansa almost clapped her hands in delight at that and she too leant in to have a good look at the interior of the car.

Renly left them to it, turning back to Loras. It was his car and he hadn’t spoken a word about it yet, which was odd, Renly thought. Usually Loras wasn’t at all averse to showing off. Quite the opposite actually.

“You okay?” he murmured quietly.

Loras nodded and yet it seemed a little distant somehow. His eyes were glued to the back of Sandor now and Renly had to wonder whether he felt uncomfortable, whether perhaps he felt a little emasculated in the presence of Sandor and Gendry. Both were big men- very big men in fact- and they made Loras look like a whippet. Supermodel or not, he was the shortest man here by at least a few inches and a good half a foot shorter than Sandor.

Standing up straight again, Renly slipped his arm around him. Loras didn’t say anything but he did lean rather heavily against him and Renly liked to think that he was appreciative.

“And you’ve got all the embroidery and everything,” Gendry commented from inside the car.

“I think Loras just ticked every box,” Renly chuckled. He nudged Loras pointedly, determined that he would speak. “Didn’t you?”

Loras just nodded. “Yeah,” he said.

“Even the option for the branded umbrella,” Renly added, reaching into the car with his spare hand and pulling it out triumphantly.

“So how much have you paid to insure it?” Gendry asked with a wide grin, shoving his hands into the pockets in his leather jacket.

Renly grinned even wider. “A lot.”

“More than what you pay on the Lambo?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “What do you think?” he asked. “Sure, this one’s not actually as expensive as mine but he’s twenty three and he’s had his driving license for like a week.”

Loras snorted beside him. “Trust me,” he said dryly. “The insurance would have been a lot more expensive if I’d had my license for any real period of time.”

Sansa cocked her head. “But I thought policies got less expensive the longer you’ve driven.”

“They do,” Renly agreed. He tightened his grip on Loras’ shoulders. “I think what Loras is trying to say is that if he’d been able to drive three years ago, he’d have more driving under the influence convictions than Lindsay Lohan.”

Loras just rolled his eyes. He didn’t deny it though.

Seeing Sansa and Loras actually communicate reminded Renly of something and he reached out to catch her arm. “Oh and Sansa,” he said. “I think Loras wanted to ask you something.”

Sansa blinked. “He did?” She seemed as taken aback as Renly had been earlier and a flush crept into her cheeks.

“Yeah,” Loras said a little stiffly, squirming his way out from under Renly’s arm. “I did. I need a model for one of my classes.”

Sansa turned as red as her hair. “And you want to use me?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Loras shrugged a little cagily. “If you don’t mind.”

“I’d love to.”

Renly hadn’t known what Loras had wanted to ask Sansa and he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or not. It was clearly an attempt on Loras’ part to try and repair their relationship though and that could only be a good thing.

 

* * *

 

“You were quiet,” Renly murmured once they were back in the car and safely out of earshot of the people waving them off from the pavement.

“Mmm.”

“You don’t like mixing with other couples much, do you?” Renly asked. He got the feeling Loras would have been much more comfortable in the absence of Gendry and Sandor.

“Not much.”

“How come?”

Loras shrugged. “I dunno. Can’t explain it.”

“Well have a go,” Renly told him.

Loras sighed heavily, staring a little sulkily out at the dark road ahead. “I feel kind of _inadequate_ I guess. Like they’re real couples and we’re only a pretend couple, if you get what I mean.”

Renly thought he knew what he meant. He meant that neither Gendry and Arya nor Sansa and Sandor saw a couples counsellor every week. He meant that they probably had sex most nights without even thinking about it while he and Renly didn’t often even share the same bed.

“Well we’re just less of a _traditional_ couple,” Renly insisted softly.

Loras just nodded, relinquishing his grip on the steering wheel to run a hand through his hair. “So Sansa’s, um, _boyfriend_ wasn’t what I expected,” he remarked. It was a clear change of subject.

Renly grinned. “No?”

“You said once that he was a little rough around the edges but…” Loras trailed off.

“But what’s up with his face?” Renly completed the sentence for him. It was the obvious question really, although rumour had it that Sandor’s face had once been much worse, scary to look at even. Multiple skin grafts had made him _a little_ easier on the eye.

“Yeah genuinely,” Loras agreed. “What happened to his face?”

Renly shrugged. “No idea. Funnily enough, I’ve never had the courage to ask. The man’s built like a bus. He could bend me in half like one of those bendy rulers.”

Loras seemed to consider that and then he laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “I never thought it possible but he actually makes you look small.”

“That he does,” Renly agreed, allowing himself a smile. Idly, he glanced at the sat nav. The journey time to Pimlico was only five minutes now. “You coming back home with me? Or do you just want to drop me off.”

Loras stifled a yawn. “No, I’ll come back.”

The house was very chilly when they came in. It was one of the downsides of Renly having turned it into a house. It had used to be warm whenever the guy downstairs had his heating on. Now, however, it resembled an ice palace.

“Can we just go to bed?” Loras yawned as they shivered their way up the stairs, chucking his jacket over the bannister.

Renly raised an eyebrow. “It’s only eleven and you know we’ve got stuff to tick off.”

Loras made a face. He didn’t relish the lists of things that the counsellor gave them to work on. “I suppose we do…” he conceded. He didn’t sound too enthused but he didn’t argue either.

Renly chanced a grin. “And next week she said she thinks we’ll be ready to start, you know, going a little further.”

Loras was silent. “Yeah I know.”

There was only the shadow of a smile on his face but it gave Renly courage all the same. He really did reckon that they had got better over the past few weeks. Talking about their issues with someone else was so unbelievably awkward that it felt easier simply by comparison when they were alone. Loras was still clearly embarrassed though, despite having come clean about what it was that made him anxious, and Renly supposed that he could understand that. People could tell him that his erection didn’t matter till the cows came home but it mattered to Loras and no amount of being told otherwise was ever going to change that. To be honest, Renly wasn’t really sure how to help him there. Other than reassuring him it didn’t matter, the ball seemed to be very much in Loras’ court there.

But overall Renly did think they were on the right track. It surprised him but he thought that the counsellor was doing a good job actually. They’d been quite good about adhering to the _homework_ she set them and Renly reckoned that they were beginning to see results. The “intimacy building sessions” she’d prescribed had seemed ridiculously embarrassing at first but the change in Loras was already noticeable. He didn’t hide behind his clothes so much and he seemed more comfortable again with his body. His attitude was better and he didn’t even wear pyjamas to bed now.

Their most recent piece of homework was supposed to build on the work they’d already done and Renly was actually quite enjoying this round. The premise was simple; it basically consisted of the two of them giving each other massages, something which was apparently a step further from the intimacy building sessions as it actually involved touching.

“So,” Renly asked, tugging Loras into his bedroom. “You game?”

“Fine,” Loras sighed.

“I’ll even treat you and let you go first,” Renly laughed.

They’d discovered the first time they’d tried this that the bed was a little too bouncy and so Renly laid a duvet down on the floor as usual. Tonight, he laid it out next to the radiator. It was the least he could do when he’d forgotten to put the heating on and was also expecting Loras to take most of his clothes off.

“All ready,” Renly told him once he’d laid the duvet out neatly. “I’ve even got you the best spot in the house.”

Loras rolled his eyes but set to undressing anyway. Renly didn’t miss the way either that he shifted closer to the radiator as soon as his shirt and jeans were off. He was clearly grateful despite his disdain.

“Boxers too,” Renly told him.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “It’s like thirty degrees in here and this radiator is barely lukewarm yet.”

It took Renly a good few moments to work out he meant thirty degrees Fahrenheit and he rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “This once then.”

That was the answer Loras was clearly looking for and obediently, he stretched himself out across the duvet.

Renly waited for him to get comfortable before he started, and bearing in mind that Loras had already complained about being cold, he did his best to warm up the very expensive massage oil in his hands as much as he could.

Loras still shivered when he touched him though and Renly had to grin and resist the urge to inflict his evidently chilly hands on more sensitive areas. Luckily for Loras, it wasn’t _too_ hard a challenge. Loras’ back was silky and tactile enough to keep Renly’s attention from wandering too much. He had to smile though at the faint white line that ran across the back of Loras’ neck and the tops of his arms. Even in November, the tan lines from their time on Arianne’s yacht lingered.

Loras had been quite tense the first time they’d done this, especially when Renly’s hands dipped anywhere near intimate areas. But slowly, he’d learnt to relax and now he was actually quite at ease under Renly’s fingers. At ease or else very tired, Renly thought, and right now he reckoned it was the latter. He could feel it in his posture; he could hear it in his breathing. He supposed that that was probably a good thing though. It was hard to be tense when you were both tired and lying down on a comfy duvet in front of the radiator.

Tonight, it was only when Renly’s hands moved in circles down his arms that Loras stiffened at all. This was another one of the spots that Loras was sensitive about. The creases in his elbows weren’t soft and silky like the rest of him; they were rough with tiny raised scars. Loras would _tolerate_ him touching but he clearly didn’t like it. Renly thought it important to ignore his discomfort and do it anyway though and he ignored Loras’ fidgeting underneath him. As far as he was concerned, those marks were as much a part of Loras now as anything else. It was important not to pretend they didn’t exist.

By contrast, Renly really didn’t care where Loras touched him. He didn’t like the backs of his knees touched but that was because he was ticklish. Not because of any kind of real reservation.

Loras relaxed again as soon as Renly moved away from his arms and Renly must have been right about Loras being tired, because the next time Renly leant round to look at his face he was fast asleep. His hair had fallen over his face but there was a laxness to his expression that could never have been present when he was awake. He looked peaceful for once rather than sarcastic or wry, like someone had ironed out his expression.

It made him look a little vulnerable and Renly smiled down at him fondly. This was supposed to be a reciprocal exercise but he didn’t have the heart to wake Loras up, not when he didn’t sleep well at the best of times. Trying hard to step lightly, Renly got the spare blanket out of the cupboard and settled down next to him.


	103. Chapter 103

Renly had been a little surprised when Loras had mentioned that he would be going out with a few people from his course next Friday; he’d been a little disappointed too, as they usually went out on Fridays and he’d already been making a mental list of good restaurants they’d yet to eat in. To Loras’ face, however, he’d forced himself to be very enthusiastic about the whole thing. After his mishap on Arianne’s yacht, Loras had vowed not to step foot in any kind of club or bar again, and when it came down to it- in spite of the restaurants that they could have eaten in- Renly was pleased to see that he’d had a change of heart. After all, it was important for Loras to have some kind of social life outside of their relationship; and it was even more important that he begin having some confidence again in his own self-restraint.

In his absence, Renly invited Sansa round and like usual, he ordered a pizza and she ordered an overpriced salad before they watched reruns of shows that they’d both seen a thousand times before. This time it was America’s Next Top Model- mostly because Loras always turned it off in irritation if he even heard its theme song- but also because Sansa liked having something to compare her recent shoots to. Quite why was a mystery to Renly, as every job she’d been booked for recently seemed very low key in comparison to what the girls on the screen were doing. Indeed, the more she talked, the more Renly got the feeling that she was quite frustrated with the slow progress she was making. It was quite sad to listen to and Renly could only hope that something better would come along after Loras used her as a model for his course. He hoped so at least. She worked hard and she was beautiful; as far as he was concerned, she could really do with a big break.

Indeed, she was still lamenting her sky high rent and lack of luck late into the night, by which time even the reruns had been replaced by the dreaded telemarketing programs. She’d only just got on to complaining about Arya and Gendry never contributing their share of household bills though when she was interrupted by a loud rap at the door.

She looked a little startled and Renly didn’t blame her. One didn’t really expect a knock on the door at two in the morning.

“Loras?” she suggested.

Renly shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he forced himself to get off the sofa. “Maybe,” he agreed. “But he usually lets me know if he’s coming round.”

Sansa was right though and Renly smiled when he opened the door to see Loras outside. Oddly though, he was only in a t-shirt despite the wintery weather, and from the looks of things, he’d emptied out the entire contents of his pockets onto the front step.

“I couldn’t find my key,” Loras explained. Renly could tell instantly he’d had a few drinks. More than a few drinks perhaps.

“Well that’s because you don’t have one,” Renly laughed.

Loras smiled a little sheepishly. “Oh yeah.” Clumsily, he gathered up the pile of things on the step, cramming them back into his jeans pockets.

“You coming in presumably?” Renly asked. Looking around, there was no sign of the Aston Martin in their rented parking space, which hopefully meant that Loras had taken a cab here instead of driving.

Loras just grinned by way of answer, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled in over the top step. It was odd seeing him so uncoordinated but Renly had to smile; the clumsiness was endearing somehow. He wasn’t used to seeing Loras tipsy. Usually Loras was either very put together or else so out of his mind that he couldn’t even see straight. The middle ground had been an unfamiliar one in recent times.

“So where did you go in the end?”’ Renly asked as he ushered him in out of the cold.

“Some place that called itself a cocktail bar but actually just served spirits mixed with fruit juice.”

Loras’ words were only slightly slurred and Renly grinned; he found some comfort in hearing where he’d gone. People didn’t do cocaine in cheap and nasty cocktail bars. It was too expensive a drug for the clientele which frequented those types of places. Instead the dealers on that turf probably only sold cheap mdma mixed with rat poison and baking powder: the sort of stuff that Loras would wrinkle his nose at even if he did find his self-control lacking.

“So where’s your coat?” Renly asked, rubbing his hands up and down Loras’ bare arms to try and warm him up.

“I think I left it in the car,” Loras told him.

“And where’s the car?” Renly laughed.

Loras just grinned at him as he wobbled through into the living room. “Somewhere in Clapton,” he said. He must have caught sight of Sansa then, for he paused, waving at her with an enthusiasm that he definitely wouldn’t have shown if he’d been sober.

“Hi Sansa,” he said. Strangely gracelessly, he plonked himself down on one of Renly’s sofas as Sansa waved nervously back at him, smoothing her skirt down to rid it of creases.

“Who’s got Ophelia tonight then?” Renly asked, sitting back down next to Sansa so that she wouldn’t feel like too much of a third wheel.

“Shit.” Loras fumbled for his phone in his pocket. It took him five attempts for him to get the passcode right and even when he had it unlocked, he merely started swiping at the screen rather uselessly.

Rolling his eyes, Renly leant over and took it from him. “Who am I calling?”

“Jessica.”

Renly dialled obediently.

The girl picked up on the second ring. “Loras?” she asked tentatively. Renly was a bit taken aback at the familiarity and yet he had to wonder what he’d been expecting. It was weird to think of them addressing Loras as Mr Tyrell either.

“It’s Renly actually,” he said, crossing his fingers that she would know who that was. “Loras is, um, busy. And he won’t be getting back to the flat tonight.”

She didn’t sound fazed by this news; no doubt she was used to Loras being a bit unpredictable. “Do you want me to stay with Ophelia then?” she asked. “Or send her over to yours.”

Renly glanced sideways at Loras. He knew that Loras hated leaving her and besides, they were both supposed to be going to counselling tomorrow. That took up most of the morning and Renly doubted that the girl would want to stay at Loras’ flat indefinitely. “Bring her here I reckon,” he told her. “Do you want my address?”

“It’s okay. I’ve got it.”

Renly supposed that he shouldn’t be surprised. Loras spent half his time at his house and it was natural that his management would have the details to hand for any kind of emergency. Renly couldn’t help but be flattered all the same though and he had to smile as he put down the phone.

That smile faded though when he looked up to see that Sansa had already packed her stuff back into her handbag.

“Don’t feel you have to leave,” he said hurriedly.

She just blushed a little pink though, tucking her hair behind her ear a little anxiously. “You’ve clearly got your hands full,” she said. “And it is two in the morning to be fair.”

Renly couldn’t deny that and he laughed, standing up to get her coat for her. He felt a little guilty though as he led her to the front door. Usually he’d have offered to take her home at this time of night.

“Here,” he said, pushing a twenty pound note into her hand. “For a taxi.” Judging from how little work she said she was getting, Renly reckoned she could do with it.

Indeed, Sansa only protested once instead of the usual three times as was her custom. She didn’t protest either when Renly hailed her a cab from the taxi rank across the road, climbing into it with as much decorum as her high shoes allowed her.

Renly waited until the cab had disappeared around the corner before he went back inside. Loras had clearly been waiting for him in the hall and he took Renly’s hand as soon as the front door had clicked shut.

“Is she gone?” Loras leant dangerously towards him, very wobbly still on his feet.

Renly reached out a hand to steady him, unable not to smile. “Yeah why?”

“I want you.”

Renly blinked. Those were words that he didn’t think he’d ever hear come out of Loras’ mouth, not any time soon at least. “What?” he asked.

Loras didn’t say anything; he just kissed him. He tasted of vodka and very faintly of cigarette smoke, his hands sliding up Renly’s shirt and across his back. What he was trying to offer him was clear and Renly’s immediate instinct was to go along with it. It was a shameful instinct though and Renly wished the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. That would surely have made him a better person. The thought _had_ crossed his mind, however, and Renly would have been lying if he said otherwise. The less decent part of him too knew that he’d have probably said yes and taken advantage of him if he’d had a few drinks as well. Not because his judgement would have been impaired but because his guilty conscience could have _convinced_ itself that his judgement was impaired.

As it was though, he was stone cold sober and no excuse readily presented itself for him to console himself with in the morning. He knew that Loras was just getting carried away here and he knew too that being drunk wouldn’t actually help him, that it was just addling Loras’ brain enough to make him think that it would. And Renly had painful memories of watching Loras try to perform whilst intoxicated.

Gently, he untangled himself. “Loras…” he chuckled. “You are very tipsy.”

“Not that tipsy.”

Renly laughed. “But it’s not _scheduled_ , Loras.”

Loras grinned a little wickedly. “So? Since when do you care?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I’ll care when you change your mind and start to regret it.”

Perhaps Loras understood his logic there because he paused, loosening his grip on Renly’s hair. “Kiss me then?”

Renly smiled. He could do that. Grinning, he took Loras’ hand again, fingers gripping tightly around his wrist. He was reassuringly solid nowadays and Renly pulled him up the stairs with quite some force. That made him happy somehow; he could remember too well when dragging Loras anywhere by his wrist would have been likely to break a few bones.

For once, Renly’s bedroom was tidy. He’d even changed the bed today in case Sansa came up to his room to inspect and there was nothing like falling into clean sheets. It felt good; it felt exciting; and more than anything it felt like the old days. Indeed, Loras was smiling against his lips; he had even laughed when Renly had pushed him down onto the bed.

It was sweet really, like they were a couple of schoolboys on a first date. Indeed, if Renly shut his eyes, he could pretend he was fourteen again, too timid still and too wary of rousing Stannis in the next room to do anything more than just kiss. He’d leant across Loras too instead of lying on top of him, mainly so that he wouldn’t be tempted to push his cock up against Loras’ leg. This was a precaution that he thought both wise and necessary; usually after all he got the feeling that Loras saw his cock as a constant reminder that he wanted more than whatever Loras was currently giving him.

Loras was usually right about that and now was no exception either. Indeed, Renly had to groan inwardly when there was the expected knock on the door, wishing now that he’d told Loras’ assistant to just stay at the flat with the bloody dog.

“Wait here,” Renly murmured, pressing another kiss to Loras’ lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Loras just grinned at him a little lopsidedly.

Renly was only a few minutes downstairs. The girl had Ophelia in one of those fancy carrier cases and it didn’t take her long to hand her over along with her basket and so-called essentials. By the time he’d come up the stairs, however, Loras had evidently grown tired of waiting. Sprawled across the covers with his hair across his face, he was fast asleep.

He seemed quite out of it, not even stirring when Ophelia jumped up on the bed and licked his face, Renly had to laugh. He supposed it was for the best.

 

* * *

 

 

Renly was woken by Ophelia walking over his chest, her paws surprisingly heavy through the duvet as she padded across them to find a new spot of the bed to curl up on. Renly’s first thought was to be irritated and yet he had to reverse that opinion as soon as he glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It was already ten o’clock and they were due at that lady’s in an hour and a half.

Giving Ophelia a rather apologetic scratch behind her ears, he turned to Loras beside him.

“Morning,” he murmured. Gently, he pressed a kiss into his curls.

Loras just groaned, clutching the duvet around him more tightly.

“Not feeling well?” Renly chuckled.

“I think I’m dying, Ren.”

Renly grinned widely. “And I think you’re hungover.”

Scowling, Loras tried to sit up and then clearly thought better of it. “Surely this isn’t just a hangover?” he groaned. “I don’t remember it being this bad.”

Renly stroked the curls off his face with a grin. “Well I bet the cocaine used to help.”

“Probably.”

“And you’re getting on, Loras,” Renly added regretfully, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I know it sounds stupid but once you’re past the twenty-one mark, hangovers do actually start becoming inevitable.”

“Fuck.”

He looked really quite sorry for himself and Renly had to laugh. “I’d have thought you’d be used to feeling like shit after overindulging the night before,” he pointed out.

Loras just glared at him.

“Or not,” Renly hurriedly said.

Loras just groaned again, pulling the covers over his head. “Well I’m going back to sleep,” he grumbled. “Wake me up on Monday.”

Renly pulled the covers back down apologetically. “Well I’m sorry to bust your bubble but we’ve got to see that lady in an hour.”

Loras screwed his face up. “Really?”

“Really really.”

“I don’t think I can. So I think I’m just going to stay in bed.”

Renly rolled his eyes. He’d have thought Loras would have more stamina. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” he said. “You’re going to down a glass of water and two ibuprofen. Then you’re going to take a shower and we’re going to go.”

Loras crawled out of bed obediently.

 

* * *

 

 

The lady’s room was annoyingly bright when she ushered them in and Renly knew as soon as they sat down that this probably wasn’t going to be a very productive session. Loras was quickly turning a mild shade of green next to him and Renly imagined that the very expensive hour and a half would simply go in one ear and out the other.

“So I wanted to talk about the more _physical_ aspects of your problems today,” she said as soon as they were settled, passing a plate of biscuits round as if that might soften the blow.

Loras’ eyes narrowed next to Renly. He clearly wasn’t in the mood right now for this sort of discussion. Though to be fair, talking about the failures of certain parts of his anatomy was rarely too high up on his list of priorities anyway.

The counsellor clearly read him like an open book. “Not about your ED,” she assured him gently. “Seeing as you tell me you want to take the receiving role in sex, I wanted to talk to you about relaxing.”

“Well what about it?” Loras snapped.

The lady didn’t even flinch and Renly had to admire her nerves of steel. He supposed that this was why they were paying her the big bucks. Whether through a superior natural disposition or very expensive training, their therapist was the sort of person who could ignore clients being rude to her and still want the best for them. Whereas Renly on the other hand reckoned he’d have throttled Loras by now if he’d been in her shoes. At best, their sessions were like trying to draw blood out of a stone; at worst, Loras could be volatile and downright rude.

“Well what do you think someone needs in order to be relaxed?” she asked.

Loras clearly wasn’t in any mood to be co-operative and so Renly cleared his throat a little apprehensively. “Isn’t this what all the touching has been about?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically as if Renly had explained complex physics to her instead of something very very basic. “Yes,” she said. “So that’s one thing. You need to be comfortable with your partner and with your own body.” She sipped her cup of coffee. “But what else? Is it all in the mind then?”

“Well no,” Renly said, helping himself to another three jammy dodgers. “You have to physically relax too. Because you’re using muscles that you can actually control.” He wasn’t going to go into details about internal and external sphincters but he imagined that she got the gist.

She smiled. “Yes, you’re using some voluntary muscles which you can more or less force to relax. But what about the involuntary ones. How do you relax those?”

Renly shrugged. He didn’t really have too much experience in bottoming. “Well being comfortable and relaxed in general is a huge factor. And then I suppose you just have to practise and get used to it.” That’s what he’d done anyway with all of his partners.

She nodded. “ _Practice_ ,” she repeated. Putting down her cup of coffee, she turned slightly in her chair. “Loras, other than the recent attempt we’ve spoken about, when was the last time you attempted any kind of penetration?”

Loras’ eyes had glazed over and Renly nudged him. “She’s talking to you, you know.”

Loras winced, pushing his hair off his face. “What was the question again?” he mumbled.

“She wants to know the last time you had sex. Not counting that time a few weeks ago.”

Loras blinked. He clearly hadn’t been expecting such a direct question. He clearly didn’t like it either.

“I didn’t say sex actually,” the lady corrected though before he had a chance to speak. “Fingers or toys either.”

Loras screwed up his face, scowling down at his shoes. “Um, like a year ago I guess.” Her clarification clearly hadn’t changed his answer.

“With Renly right?”

“Yes.”

“And did it go smoothly?”

Loras shrugged, still glaring down at his feet. “Dunno. I was very drunk.”

Renly winced. Drunk wasn’t the word. They’d downed three bottles of wine between them. That had been when Loras had read that list he’d written about him and the whole night was something Renly rather wished he could forget. He imagined that Loras felt the same way.

“Yes,” their therapist nodded along. “I think I’ve read both your accounts of that incident. What about before that then?”

Loras pushed his hand through his hair, clearly wanting to tear it all out. “When we broke up I guess,” he mumbled, his cheeks turning pink. “I was drunk too then.”

Renly couldn’t remember if he’d ever had direct confirmation that Loras hadn’t had sex whilst they’d been apart. He didn’t think he’d ever been brave enough to ask. He wasn’t at all surprised though. He’d certainly _assumed_ at least that Loras’ sex life had been virtually non-existent. Even without taking his humiliation after that incident with the video into account, for a huge portion of the time they were apart he would have been too unwell to engage in any kind of sexual activity.

It must have been embarrassing to admit that out loud though and Renly reached over to hold his hand. He wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or not when it was batted away irritably.  
.  
“So you don’t seek that kind of pleasure by yourself,” the lady pressed quietly.

Loras closed his eyes briefly. “No.” He didn’t look at Renly as he said that and Renly got the feeling that he might be ashamed of how unadventurous he apparently was in his solo sessions.

“So it’s been a while since you’ve done that sort of thing,” the lady said gently. “Especially since you’ve done it whilst sober.”

“I guess.”

“So maybe he should have a few glasses of wine before we try anything,” Renly laughed, in what he already knew would be a rather futile attempt to diffuse the tension.

The lady allowed herself a smile. “Well it’s not a route I’d recommend, though I admit it’s a popular one. No, what I want you to do, Loras, is to get used to using and relaxing those muscles again.”

Renly’s first thought in response to those words was probably a bad one, especially considering that Loras was a recovering drug addict. Poppers hardly counted as a drug though and they certainly weren’t addictive. More to the point, they’d do the trick nicely. Loras was hardly the first gay man after all who had trouble relaxing during sex and Renly knew from experience that they would work. He didn’t dare voice this out loud though.

“So lots of foreplay that doesn’t lead anywhere?” he suggested more sensibly. He made to wrap an arm around Loras’ shoulders and was pleased when Loras let him this time.

“Actually,” the lady said, “I meant Loras to practise by himself.”

Loras blinked. “By myself?” he repeated.

The lady seemed a little amused. “Yes,” she said firmly. “ _By yourself_. I get the feeling that the overwhelming emotion you experience when engaging in that sort of thing is anxiety. I want you to retrain yourself to relax and I’m hoping the fact that nobody is watching you will make that easier.”

Loras just scowled, his ears bright pink. He clearly disagreed.


	104. Chapter 104

Loras was still a vague shade of green when they got back from their counselling and so Renly sent him straight to bed. He knew from both experience and a lot of trial and error whilst at uni that there was no point messing around with paracetamol and fried breakfasts and so called miracle cures. The only sure fire way to get rid of a hangover was to sleep it off. Or else delay it by drinking more if your name was Robert.

Renly gave it a good few hours before he dared check up on him and even then it was only armed with a very strong cup of coffee and a packet of real cigarettes. Now that Loras was limiting himself to _legal_ drugs, these were perhaps Loras’ two favourite things and Renly imagined that they would at least go some way towards placating him if he was lying in bed awake with a splitting headache.

As he’d expected though, Loras was fast asleep with the curtains drawn and Ophelia curled into his chest. Both her ears were inside out and although Renly had to admit that they made a cute pair, he felt an odd stab of jealousy as he watched them. Not only was Ophelia actually allowed to sleep all day without feeling guilty, but Loras was a lot more comfortable with her than he was with most people.

Renly hadn’t meant to wake either of them up but Ophelia stirred as soon as Renly turned to tiptoe back out of the room, her ears pricking in excitement. Loras followed soon after and he stretched ever so slightly under the covers, groaning loudly.

“Hey,” Renly murmured, coming to the bedside. “Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s okay,” Loras yawned. Switching the bedside light onto its dimmest setting, he rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the light. He seemed to see the coffee then though and that perked him up visibly. Stifling another yawn, he sat up and reached out a little longingly for the tray in Renly’s hands.

“Here,” Renly laughed, rolling his eyes as he laid the tray on his lap. “To perk you up.”

Loras smiled, running a hand through his very tangled hair. “You going to let me smoke in bed then?” he asked, fingers caressing the packet of Silk Cut rather lovingly.

Renly just laughed; he wouldn’t deign that with a response. He had never let Loras smoke in his bedroom and he wasn’t about to start now. Not when he had Egyptian cotton sheets on the bed that had a one thousand thread count. Ruthlessly perhaps, he gestured out towards the balcony. Loras knew the rules and it would be his decision to make.

Loras turned his head towards the balcony door a little contemplatively and then clearly thought better of it. “Meh,” he said, sinking back down against the pillows. “I think I’ll just stick with the coffee.”

Gingerly, he took a sip and it clearly got the seal of approval because he took another.

That was a good sign because Loras was notoriously fussy with his coffee and Renly thought it safe to climb in bedside him. “So,” he said, nudging Ophelia out of the way. “That was an interesting session earlier.”

“Mmm.” Loras just tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

“You going to take her up on her suggestion and buy something suitable?” He didn’t bother asking whether Loras already had something suitable. Nor did he bother suggesting that he use something that Renly already owned. Somehow he didn’t think that Loras would feel comfortable using anything that his previous partners had. Especially when he was already less than comfortable about the whole thing.

Indeed, Loras just groaned. “Later,” he said.

Renly grinned. “The thought of anything sexual right now make you want to throw up?”

Loras shrugged. “The thought of most things right now makes me want to throw up.”

Renly laughed. He knew the feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras spent the rest of the weekend at Renly’s. It was the first time he’d done that in a while and by the time that Monday rolled round, Renly had almost forgotten that they didn’t actually live together. Indeed, he was a little confused for a good few moments when Loras told him over breakfast that he would be going home.

As it turned out, however, Loras may as well have not bothered. In the absence of having anything better to do, Renly headed over to his flat as soon as he had finished at work for the day. It was one of the good things about Loras living in East London; it was so close to his office that Renly was able to pop round on a whim whenever he fancied it.

Loras was expecting him and had left the key under the mat for him. It was easy to find and yet Renly had to sigh as he unlocked the door. It was high time perhaps that they exchanged keys again. It was only as a matter of principle after all that they weren’t living together in the first place.

Loras was sat in his bedroom when Renly found him and as was usual nowadays after a day at that fashion college, his floor was littered with fabric and various sharp implements that made Renly just a little bit frightened of him. He knew best of all perhaps how bad Loras’ temper could be if he was riled.

Right now, however, that temper seemed dormant and Renly flopped down on the floor next to him quite happily.

“Long time no see,” he laughed.

Loras just rolled his eyes, tilting his head up so that Renly could kiss him hello all the same. He seemed absorbed in what he was doing though and so once he’d greeted him, Renly sat himself down on the bed where he’d be out of the way.

It was interesting work and Renly amused himself trying to guess what Loras was making. There was definitely some sort of a skirt involved and Renly wondered whether this was the garment that was being made for Sansa. He hoped so; she hadn’t mentioned it for a while but he knew she was beyond excited.

“Is this what you’re going to make Sansa wear?” he asked.

Loras nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “But it’s nothing exciting. It’s more of an exercise in pattern creating than anything. I just thought she’d appreciate it.”

Renly grinned. “You thought _I’d_ appreciate it, more like.”

Loras shrugged, picking his scissors back up. He didn’t bother denying it.

“Do you not mind being watched?” Renly asked.

Loras shrugged again, cutting around a chalky white line that he’d clearly drawn on the fabric. “Not really. I’m surprised you’re not bored out of your skull though.”

Renly just smiled. He’d always been good at entertaining himself; he supposed it to be a relic of having grown up by himself. When he’d been younger he had used to sit on Robert and Cersei’s window seat for hours, aimlessly judging the clothes of people passing by. He reckoned people watching had always been rather up his alley.

“I can’t deal with doing nothing,” Loras said.

Renly laughed. “I have the opposite problem. There’s not really anything that can motivate me to get off my arse and do something.”

Loras wrinkled his nose. “Try cocaine,” he said dryly. “That would do it.”

Renly rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“Food then,” Loras supplied. “Or the promise of very expensive clothes.”

Renly grinned. That was more like it.

Loras was clearly in a decent mood and so Renly shuffled closer, thinking he could risk bringing up uncomfortable subject matter. “So,” he asked. “Thought any more about what our therapist wants you to do?”

Loras didn’t even look up. “No.”

Renly was unsurprised; he had hardly expected Loras to be proactive about getting on with his task. “Well you should give it some thought,” he prompted gently. “There’s so much choice. You’re going to have to think about size, and shape, and material.”

Loras’ brow furrowed and if Renly wasn’t mistaken, he looked a little lost. “Isn’t, um, isn’t silicone supposed to be nice?”

Renly shrugged. “It has its good points and its bad points.”

Sighing, Loras put down his scissors. “Well what would you get then?” he asked wearily. “If you were me?”

“Well silicone isn’t _bad_ ,” Renly backtracked. He hadn’t meant to discourage Loras there. “It has some give which is good. But you often can’t use silicon lube with it.”

Loras frowned; that clearly didn’t mean much to him. “Would I want to use silicone based lube?”

Renly shrugged. That was down to personal taste as far as he was concerned. “You tell me. What do you prefer using?”

“Well what did we used to use?”

Renly resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. He was a little taken aback that Loras either knew or remembered so little. He supposed he ought not to be so judgmental though; not everyone took the time to educate themselves. And part of him had to wonder too how much Loras remembered of their relationship at all, or whether he’d simply been so high most of the time that the whole thing was a veritable blur. “We used to use water-based, Loras,” he said, as patiently as he could.

“And why not silicone?”

Renly smiled. “Because it’s a nightmare to get off your skin and an even bigger nightmare to get out of your sheets.”

“But that’s because it works, right?”

“Oh yeah. It works _too_ well,” Renly laughed. He had painful memories actually of trying to get it off in the shower.

Loras only gave a hint of a smile though. “So what would you get then?” he asked rather solemnly. “If you were me?”

Renly shrugged. Again it was all personal taste. “Well whatever material you go for, I’d get a set,” he said. “Of graduating ones.”

Loras just nodded, turning his attention rather obviously back to the pattern in front of him. He’d clearly had enough.

 

* * *

 

 

It was over a week before they broached the subject again, and this time, much to Renly’s surprise, it was Loras who brought it up, one wintery Thursday afternoon when they were at his flat in Shoreditch.

“Ren,” he called, his voice faint from behind his bedroom door.

“What?”

“Could you come and help me for a second?”

It wasn’t often that Loras called him and so Renly duly got up from where he’d been napping on the sofa. He found Loras in his bedroom and a little taken aback to see that Loras was only half dressed, sitting on his bed in only boxers and a shirt.

“I was thinking of starting that exercise today,” Loras said. He sounded a little hesitant, embarrassed almost. “You know, with the toys.”

“And?” Renly was very surprised he was bringing it up. “What about it?”

“Well, I-“

He trailed off and Renly lay what he hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You what?”

Loras bit down on the inside of his cheek. “I, um- I can’t get it _in._ ”

“Oh.”

Loras looked at him a little plaintively. Eventually Renly got what he was getting at.

“You want me to help you?” he asked.

Loras seemed relieved, probably because he’d been anticipating having to spell it out. “Could you?” he asked.

Renly hesitated only for a few moments. “Course I can,” he said. He wasn’t sure or not whether he was disobeying instructions or not by agreeing to help. Their therapist had made it clear that this was Loras’ task and yet Renly thought it was mean to refuse to help him. They were a couple after all.

His mind made up, Renly gently eased down Loras’ boxers. He could see that Loras had been attempting. The back of his thighs were deliciously silky. He doubted this was the first attempt either; if he knew Loras, he’d have tried at least several times by himself before resorting to asking for help. He was proud like that.

Renly laughed though when he glanced down at the duvet and saw what Loras had chosen to start with. “Did you buy a set like I suggested?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And that one is the smallest?”

Loras scowled. “Well no,” he admitted.

Renly had to roll his eyes. He imagined that Loras had been the type of child who’d learnt to run before he could walk. Or who had at least tried to.

Now though, Renly reckoned that they should very much be taking baby steps and he pushed the larger toy aside. Gently, he ran his hand down Loras’ back. “Do you mind?”

“No.” Loras’ cheeks were pink though.

Sighing, Renly pushed a finger inside him. Loras had clearly already attempted this and he found that it slipped in easily He wished Loras wouldn’t look so embarrassed though. This was something he enjoyed doing- something he _wanted_ to do. .

Renly didn’t need to stretch him much and after he’d worked a second finger in, he reached out to Loras for the smallest toy in the set, the one that Loras clearly didn’t think big enough to be worth bothering with.

It was made of glass- clearly expensive- and Renly felt an odd sense of satisfaction as he warmed it up between his palms.

“Go on then,” he laughed, giving the small of Loras’ back a less than gentle nudge. “On your knees. Legs apart.”

Loras rolled his eyes but he did as he was told. He even let Renly push his legs further apart without a fuss.

Renly pushed it in easily. “See,” he said. “This is why you start with the smaller ones.” He tried to keep his tone light but even as the words left his mouth, he felt his voice grow tight. He wanted nothing more than to fuck him. As soon as this was done he would have to go and take a cold shower.

Loras looked a little flustered for a different reason though. “Will it stay in?” he asked.

Renly looked down. It wasn’t very big and he shrugged. “Have a walk round and see.”

Loras pulled his boxers up and got to his feet. “Feels a bit precarious,” he admitted.

Renly smiled. “Then just wear it around the flat. And you can upgrade to the bigger one when you go out if you like.”

Loras just narrowed his eyes. “Out?” he repeated skeptically. He didn’t need to elaborate for Renly to know that there was no way he’d ever consider leaving the flat with a toy in his arse.

 

* * *

 

 

Loras was clearly a little embarrassed about the whole thing and so Renly tried to leave the subject alone all evening. Despite his best intentions, however, he couldn’t help dwelling on it. They had a good film on this evening and yet Renly found that it was all he could think about. Every now and then, he’d find himself studying Loras’ posture, desperate to know whether or not his arse was achingly full.

Indeed, his resolve failed as soon as Loras shifted in a vaguely circumspect way. “You still got it in?” he asked.

Loras scowled, the tips of his ears blushing. He didn’t need to ask what Renly was referring to. “Yes.”

Renly gulped. “That’s nice.”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “That’s _nice?_ ”

Renly laughed, scratching his head a little self-consciously. “Well it’s very arousing if you want more specifics.”

“It is?”

Renly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, Loras. It is.” He ran another hand through his hair. “But anyway, this isn’t about me. This is about you. How does it feel?”

Loras shrugged, shifting on the sofa a little uncomfortably. “It feels sorta okay, I guess.”

Renly smiled. He supposed that it could be worse. He could have said that it felt awful.

“Well it’s supposed to feel good,” he laughed. Gently, he pulled Loras to him on the sofa, dipping his fingers under the waistband of Loras’ jeans. “May I?”

Loras shrugged again and unbuttoned his jeans, leaning forward so that Renly could gain access.

Loras’ jeans were quite restrictive even whilst undone and yet Renly managed to slip his hand down far enough to find the smooth glass base. Gripping it in his fingers, he tilted it as gently as he could. He knew instantly when he’d found the right angle; Loras drew breath sharply and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Better?” Renly laughed. He’d forgotten the thrill of seeing pleasure etched across your partner’s face. It was almost unrecognizable when it came to Loras. As was the vague outline of a hard cock through his clothes.

“You want me to?” He gestured to the front of Loras’ jeans.

“No, it’s okay.”

That answer didn’t surprise Renly in the slightest and he tried not to take it to heart. Instead, he focused on grinding the toy against Loras’ prostate. Keeping the motion gentle, he built up a rhythm slowly, watching Loras’ face to check that he wasn't hurting him.

All the signs pointed to it feeling good and yet Loras grasped his hand after a few minutes. “I think I’ve had enough now,” he said. His voice was hoarse and almost apologetic.

“Alright, baby.” Renly knew not to push his luck.


	105. Chapter 105

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know... I'm useless at holding down a job and a a03 account at the same time! Will try harder!

“Does my hair look alright?”

Even Renly had to roll his eyes. This was the sixth or seventh time that Sansa had asked this in the past half an hour and he reckoned that if she asked again, Arya would probably yank the bobby pins from her hair and choke her with them. He supposed though that it was only natural that Sansa would fret. She was no doubt used to having her hair and makeup done for her, despite only booking rather small shoots. Today, however, she’d had to do it by herself.

“What does it matter anyway,” Arya cut in. “I thought this was only an assignment for Loras’ course?”

Renly bit back a smile at her naivety. She was right in that it was only a piece of coursework that she was modelling for today, but it was Loras Tyrell’s coursework. It would be printed in every magazine as soon as journalists realised it existed. He didn’t bother to correct her though. He was just glad that she’d got Loras’ name right for once.

Stepping back, Renly looked Sansa over. It wasn’t a bad thing that her picture would probably be printed in every magazine by the end of the week. She looked as beautiful as she always did. Loras had let her leave her hair mostly down and the contrast between her red hair and her pale skin was really quite pleasing.

The dress too fitted Sansa remarkably well, considering that she’d never tried it on before and that Loras had instead relied on one of those adjustable mannequins. A deep blue, it brought out the colour of her eyes. It was slightly big on the bust though and Sansa was clearly a little self-conscious about it. Every now and then she’d smooth the neckline down, trying to make it lie a little flatter.

The next time Renly caught her at it he grinned. “Why don’t you shove some socks down there,” he suggested.

Arya’s eyes glinted. “Speaking from experience are we?” she pipped before Sansa could get any words out. With a cruel smirk on her face, she glanced disparagingly down at Renly’s jeans.

Renly just smiled cattily back. “Don’t insult me,” he laughed. “I thought you’d know best of all that we Baratheons don’t need help in that department.”

Arya considered that for a moment. “Point taken,” she said. She bent down to the floor, bundling up some scraps of fabric off the floor and into her hands. “Sansa is not so blessed though.” She stuffed the material down the neck of the dress, before stepping back to admire her handiwork.

Colour came instantly to Sansa’s cheeks and her cry of horror brought Loras back from where he’d been chatting with a group of his fellow students. He looked rather amused at the lumpy neckline of Sansa’s dress and he stood with an eyebrow perfectly arched as he watched Sansa fish out the material.

“This is why designers use models that look like boys,” he sighed. “There’s nothing to get wrong.” Reaching out, he took the material from Sansa and folded it absentmindedly. To Renly’s astonishment he then handed it back to her.

“What?” he said when Renly looked at him accusingly. “There’s no room for pride when you’re in this job. If this was a real show, she’d be being poked and prodded at nonstop. With no thought given to her personal space.”

To Sansa’s credit she only turned a little pink as she carefully arranged the fabric in her bra.

Loras whisked her away shortly after that and Renly was left alone with Arya to kill time until the show got on the road. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d spent with Arya by herself and yet they ended up having quite a good time together. Quite a few of the other guests had clearly tried a little too hard for a low key college event and it seemed to Renly and Arya that they were practically inviting ridicule. Leaning against the bar, they were able to mock feathers and sequins and all manners of unflattering lycra.

Renly was just pointing out a woman who looked like she’d invested in an indescribably ugly outfit from Kanye West’s collection when Arya tugged on his arm.

“Loras looks really similar to his sister,” she commented. “Well I’m assuming that’s his sister.”

“Huh?” Renly whipped round and what he saw made his blood run a little bit colder in his veins. _No family_ , Loras had assured him. It had clearly been a lie. Margaery was recognisable even from across a crowded room, as was Loras’ mother with her long silvery hair.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Arya said cheerfully, waving him off in their direction. “I’m going to go escape for five minutes.”

Renly grimaced and without thinking, he grabbed at the back of Arya’s top. “No, stay with me please.”

“Why?”

“Because Loras’ family hates me.”

Arya’s eyes widened in a rare appreciation of gossip. “Really? Why?”

She sounded surprised and Renly didn’t blame her. Getting people’s parents to like him wasn’t usually a problem he had. He was well educated, well mannered, and always dressed appropriately for the occasion. “Because there were all those pictures of me and that guy in that bar,” he told her irritably. Just thinking about it still made him angry. Loras may have agreed to believe that nothing happened but Renly doubted that the rest of the world was so convinced.

“Oh yeah.” Arya nodded gravely. “They were pretty bad. It really did look like you were going to kiss him. Even Sansa said so.”

“Thanks,” Renly muttered dryly. “Really reassuring.” He breathed a sigh of relief though as Loras’ mother halted to pick up a programme for the day. They clearly hadn’t seen him yet.

“You know,” Arya piped up. “You should have Sansa here for moral support really. Sandor’s the boyfriend that our parents can’t stand.” She didn’t need to elaborate on why. Sandor might treat his girlfriend like glass but he would forever be Joffrey’s bodyguard to Ned and Catelyn Stark- a man who was far too familiar with how to use his fists.

“So your parents like Gendry?” he asked. He was a little surprised that Gendry clearly hadn’t been put in the same category as Sandor. Gendry was uncouth and uneducated; his prospects not particularly good.

Arya shrugged. “I think my mum was just glad I had a boyfriend,” she told him cheerfully. “She thought I was never going to be “ladylike enough” to attract one.”

Renly glanced down at her. She’d clearly made an effort today in order to please Sansa. Her jeans were clean and she’d actually worn a top that wasn’t one of Gendry’s old shirts. He could see why her mother had worried though. She didn’t exactly ooze feminine charm.

He almost smiled and then remembered that Margaery was less than ten yards away. Steeling himself, he gulped.

It must have been audible because Arya turned around to face the bar and leant over it. Nonchalantly she picked up one of the bottles of champagne that had been cooling in a bucket of ice in preparation for afterwards and poured a glass.

“Here,” she said. “Down it.”

“You can’t down good champagne,” Renly protested even as he took it from her. “This isn’t Lambrini you know.”

“Just do it.”

Renly did it. It was probably just in his mind- he needed a lot of alcohol to get him even tipsy after all- but he did feel a little Dutch courage rise in his throat. Breathing in deeply, he rallied. If he was going to have to face Loras’ family today, he was going to do it on his own terms. Not be found cowering behind a five foot tall girl who smelt ever so slightly of petrol.

Looking across the room, he forced himself to meet Loras’ mother’s eye. To his relief, she smiled when she finally saw him and steered a course through the gathered crowd towards him. He supposed that that shouldn’t be so surprising to him. Loras’ mother had always seemed more forgiving than Margaery and Renly reckoned she had more trust too in Loras’ choices than her only daughter did. No doubt it helped as well that Loras was a very private person and that as a result she was probably less privy to his failures than Margaery was.

“Renly,” she smiled. “How lovely to see you again.” She gestured to a very pregnant lady who trailed just behind her. “This is Leonette, Garlan’s girlfriend. I can’t remember if you’ve met.”

“We haven’t.” Renly leant in to kiss her cheek. She was very much what he had expected. Pretty and rosy cheeked, she clearly knew how to smile. She couldn’t have been older than thirty and yet she already had laughter lines at the corners of her mouths. Renly imagined that she and Garlan made a good couple.

Margaery had hung back when her mother had crossed the room but now it seemed that even she couldn’t avoid him any longer without making the situation publicly awkward. Grudgingly, she stepped forward and Renly could tell simply from the set of the mouth that she wasn’t happy.

“Margaery,” he managed in as amiable a tone as he could fake when faced with her expression.

“Renly,” she returned. Her tone was verging on icy and she didn’t hide her disdain. Renly wondered if she took pleasure in the fact that she struck terror into him. He imagined that she probably did. No doubt this was payback for him having humiliated Loras so publicly.

Silently, Renly debated whether he should take her aside and apologise. Or explain himself. It was on the tip of his tongue to do so, and then he decided that he shouldn’t bother wasting his time. Apologising wouldn’t change her opinion of him; it would probably just make him look spineless as well. He’d explained himself to Loras and that would have to be good enough for her.

Glancing at Arya quickly for support, he forced himself to stop quaking in his boots and meet Margaery’s eye properly. He would continue this conversation and she was simply going to have to get used to him. Because like it or not, he was here to stay.

 

* * *

 

 

“Why did you do that to me?” Only now, safely wrapped up with Loras in his duvet, did Renly dare to bring it up.

Loras feigned ignorance. “Do what?”

Renly rolled his eyes. “You know what.”

Loras merely stretched ever so slightly, shuffling closer and leaning his forehead against Renly’s bare shoulder. “I told you earlier. I didn’t know they were coming.”

Renly snorted. The very fact that Loras knew what he was talking about confirmed his suspicions. “Bullshit,” he protested. “It was ticketed for your benefit. So that the paparazzi couldn’t get in.”

Loras just shrugged and turned his face up to his to be kissed. He clearly intended that to be the end of the matter and Renly couldn’t help but be a little amused. In some ways, affection willingly given by Loras still counted as currency between them. Those days were numbered now though, for Loras gave affection too readily for it to command a high price. In that sense, Renly supposed he had a lot to thank their therapist for. She was worth every penny.

For a few moments Renly played along, slipping his hand into Loras’ curls as he let him kiss him. And then he pulled away. “ _So..._?” he prompted.

A small glint of slightly amused irritation passed over Loras’ face when he realised that he wasn’t going to get away with changing the subject. “What does it matter anyway?” he asked. “You don’t fear my family do you?”

Renly looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course I do.”

Loras just sighed, his breath deliciously warm against Renly’s neck. “But it’s me you’re dating,” he whispered softly. “Not them.”

Those were comforting words and yet Renly knew that Loras understood where he was coming from despite them. He’d heard Loras first hand lamenting how desperately he wanted his family to like him. That had been a conversation Renly had not been supposed to overhear but the facts still stood.

“Yes but it’s your family, Loras. It’s only natural you’d care about what they think of me.”

Loras opened his eyes seemingly reluctantly. “Yes,” he agreed. ”But I’d choose you over their objections every time. You know that right?”

Renly looped his arms more tightly around him. “You’ve probably done so quite a few times,” he murmured, feeling a little ashamed of himself.

Loras didn’t deny it. “It goes both ways,” he reminded Renly though. “I know I’m not what your friends would pick for you either.”

Renly smiled wryly. He supposed that that was what today had been about. Loras had never been too proud to buy Sansa’s loyalty and this afternoon had been proof of it. Out of all the models that Loras no doubt knew, he’d picked Sansa, knowing full well that it would do for her career what all of her real shows had failed to so far and leave her in his debt. It was underhand tactics at their best and yet Renly couldn’t find it in him to begrudge him it. He just wished he could buy Margaery’s loyalty too.

“Yes but you’ve never done anything _that_ bad if we leave out the hidden coke addiction,” he pointed out.

Loras raised an eyebrow. “Plate throwing? More lies than either of us can count? Poaching your ex-hooker for the evening?”

Renly laughed wryly, rolling his eyes. “Well that’s one way to put it…”

Loras shrugged. Despite having poached Satin for the evening, he clearly still didn’t have much respect for him. Although that said, he didn’t often have much respect for anybody.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened that night?” Renly breathed.

Loras blinked, probably surprised that Renly had asked the question. Watching his face, Renly held his breath, waiting for Loras to grow surly. He was well aware that he was pushing his luck asking such a question. He hadn’t been able to help himself though. Whilst he could force himself to laugh about it now, he could still remember the gut-wrenching jealousy that had shot through him. He was not sure whether he’d ever fully forgive Satin.

Eventually Loras shrugged lightly. “Well what do you want to know?” he asked.

It was Renly’s turn to be surprised, and he ran his hand through his hair, suddenly flustered. “Well I don’t know?”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I gave him head. That’s what you want to know.”

Even though Loras was right next to him and in his bed no less, Renly felt a sudden echo of that buried jealousy. Images flashed through his mind and Renly refused to believe them. He remembered having to ask Loras to give him head when they’d first been going out and he certainly wouldn’t be so lucky nowadays. It was simply not conceivable that Loras had behaved so with Satin.

“Why?” he breathed.

Loras shrugged. “Lots of reasons.”

“Care to explain?” Renly’s tone was a little harsher than he’d intended.

Loras sighed heavily. “Well we’d argued that morning if you remember. Because you and Jon had fucked loudly in the room next door.”

“I remember,” Renly quickly told him. He had absolutely no desire to relive that argument.

“And I’d worked myself up into a state about it. You’d sounded like you were having a good time and it was enough to convince me you’d never give that up for me.” He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. “So I’d come to a decision. I was going to move out and move on with my life. But I didn’t really want to, you know? I couldn’t bear the thought of living on my own again. It put me in a really miserable mood.”

“And then Satin turned up?”

“Yes and then Satin turned up. And I was irritated if you must know. You were out with one guy and there was another on your doorstep looking for you, and I was sat at home drinking by myself. With the dog.” He paused, his gold-flecked eyes moving from Renly’s face. “I was lonely I guess.”

It was rare for Loras to speak like that and Renly felt his expression soften. “And one thing led to another?” he prompted gently.

“Not really. I drank a bit too much and said too much.”

“What did you say?”

Loras shrugged non-committedly. “Something about wishing I was more like him so that you’d go back out with me. And he laughed and said I surely couldn’t have been that bad.”

Renly said nothing. He’d learnt long ago that it was best to remain silent when they got onto this topic. It didn’t stop him drowning in shame though.

Loras sighed heavily when he realised Renly wasn’t going to comment, flicking his hair out of his face a little irritably. “And I told him the truth I guess. That I had no idea if I was that bad. And being an oddly well-mannered hooker, he offered to be the judge of it.”

Renly blinked. “And you took him up on that offer?” He was astounded.

Loras sniffed. “Yeah,” he said. “I did. Because by that point the rational part of me had convinced myself that no matter how bad I was, it couldn’t be as awful as in my imagination.”

Renly didn’t really know what to say. He supposed he should be glad to hear that it hadn’t been the passion-fuelled tryst he had always feared and yet he only felt a little sad. “And did it help?”

Loras shrugged. “I suppose so. He didn’t make fun at least.” Sighing heavily, he pressed his face into Renly’s shoulder, an unvoiced plea to end the conversation.

Silently, Renly put an arm around him. He wanted to ask more and yet he stilled his tongue. Loras had already volunteered more information than he’d had to. Renly knew not to ask too much of him.


	106. Chapter 106

6th November 2016

_Unknown model Sansa Stark shoots to fame on Instagram after wowing in leaked photos from Loras Tyrell’s coursework portfolio. Rumoured to be a close friend of Loras Tyrell’s boyfriend, the natural redhead stunned onlookers at the London College of Fashion._

“And you, Renly?”

Renly looked up guiltily from the link that Sansa had sent him. Their therapist had been immersed in conversation with Loras for a good ten minutes but that was no excuse really not to be paying attention. They were supposed to be in this together after all.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He slipped his phone back into his pocket as if he was a student caught out by a teacher.

Their therapist just shook her head at him rather fondly. She seemed to know instinctively that he was in bad spirits. “Why so silent today, Renly?”

Loras answered for him. “He’s sulking because my sister doesn’t like him.”

“Thanks,” Renly muttered. He didn’t deny it though.

Briefly, Renly explained why Loras’ family weren’t too fond of him. For the first time since they’d started coming to these sessions he was actually glad to be in the company of people who already knew about all the terrible things he’d done. There was nothing left to hide and no point trying to present himself in a better light.

Regardless though, the woman raised an inquiring eyebrow as she always did whenever they discussed anything. “So Loras' sister thinks you’re lying about nothing happening with that man at the bar?”

“Presumably,” Renly agreed, wringing his hands together a little irritably. “Although I don’t know how she thinks I’m lying. Whoever took those photographs clearly didn’t just pop off to make a cup of tea after five minutes. They'd have been waiting to see if anything else happened.”

Loras gave a small cough. “Actually,” he said lightly, “she thinks I’m the one who’s lying.”

Renly frowned and turned to him. “Well what would you be lying about?”

“About those photos not existing,” Loras said wearily. He ran a hand through his hair, untangling it absent-mindedly. “Feasibly, if those photos had existed, I could have paid off the copyright holder not to publish them.”

“Oh.” Renly scratched his head. “So she's assumed you’re lying for me?”

Loras shrugged. “To be fair, it’s exactly what I would have tried to do if you had cheated on me in that bar. I’d have paid off the idiot with the camera phone as soon as I possibly could, provided they gave me a chance, and then I'd have lied about it.” He frowned. "Hell, it's what I tried to do with the existing photos. But by the time my publicist got onto it, those pictures had already been sold and resold about three hundred times." 

That gave Renly some food for thought and yet their therapist turned to them rather sharply. “I shouldn’t waste time worrying about all this,” she told them. “What's done is done." She eyed Renly a little more sympathetically. "And neither should you bother worrying about Loras' sister. There’s little you can do about others’ opinion of you and the best thing you can do to convince her that you and him are good for each other is to make it irrefutably true.”

Renly nodded wearily. That was easier said than done though.

“And that means continuing to address your current issues.” She turned cheerily to Loras. “Have you been persevering with the last exercise I gave you? Have you been practising?”

“Yes.” Loras stiffened uncomfortably beside him and Renly had to fight back a grin. Little did their therapist know that Loras was practising right now. Loras was never one to back down from a dare and it had been part of a bargain this morning to try and cheer Renly up. He had taken a lot of persuading. 

“And do you feel like you’ve made progress?”

“Yes.”

The lady knew when not to push and so she simply took him at his word. “Right,” she said in an irritably bright tone, “in which case I have a new exercise for you.”

Renly and Loras exchanged a look. Knowing their luck, it would be something horrible. Like talking about their feelings after every meal or refraining from touching each other at all in order to make the heart grow fonder.

Reaching into a bag at her feet, she pulled out two small notebooks. “This is for you to keep at your flat, Loras.” She handed him a shiny blue one. “And this red one, Renly, this one’s for you to keep at yours. This way there will be no excuses regardless of whose place you’ve stayed at.”

Renly turned the one for his house reluctantly over in his hands. “And what are we going to be writing in them?” he asked. _Anything but a diary_ , he begged silently.

“I want you to record something positive every time the two of you are intimate. It doesn’t matter what. It can be to do with how your partner looked or to do with something they did, or even something circumstantial. It doesn’t matter. But it has to be something you liked.” She paused, letting that sink in. “Then, I want you to write down something that you would like next time. And small things, please.” She looked at Renly as if on cue. “I don’t want to hear that you’ve been asking for threesomes or sex in public or anything else that would require a major discussion. Little things. Paying more attention to a specific part of your body, kissing a certain area. Saying your name. That sort of thing.”

Renly shrugged and slipped the notebook into his bag without a fuss. He wasn’t looking forward to any of that but he could see exactly what she was doing here. The first entry they would write was essentially intended as a boost to Loras’ very fragile self-esteem. The second was aimed at forcing Renly to communicate what he wanted and to prevent them getting stuck in a rut. No doubt their therapist knew that if left to his own devices, Renly would merely smile and avoid hurting Loras’ feelings by insisting everything was perfect while bored out of his mind. 

 

* * *

 

 

It was pissing it down with rain by the time they got home to Loras’ flat and Renly collapsed on the bed rather disheartened. Not only had he spent his Saturday morning discussing his private life with a counsellor but it looked like the rest of the weekend was going to be wet and miserable. Like the rest of the week had been. 

He looked dolefully at the window, sighing as he watched the rain slide down it in sheets. “Can we move to Florida?” he asked Loras when he’d followed him in. He was only half joking. 

Loras shrugged, throwing his jacket over a chair by his wardrobe. “Never fancied it," he said. "Too much of it is taken up by Disneyland.”

Renly rolled his eyes and reached out for Loras’ hand, tugging on it until Loras consented to join him on the bed. For a good few minutes they just lay there, listening to the rain outside as it battered the window panes. It was quite soothing and yet Renly imagined that both of them were still dwelling on their session this morning. Neither of them were usually in a particularly good mood afterwards.

“So,” Renly sighed, shifting so that he could lay his head in Loras’ lap. “Sansa’s apparently the darling of Instagram now.”

“Mmm,” Loras merely hummed, his fingers migrating to his hair as if he could read Renly’s mind.

“I wonder who leaked the photos.”

Loras’ fingers stilled. “I did," he said bluntly.

Renly had to bite back a wry smile. “God you’re shameless. Leaking your own photos? Seriously?”

Loras shrugged. “We all know that was the point right though? That Sansa get a bit of publicity. No offence to her, but it wasn't exactly like she was the only model I could have asked.”

“So why didn’t you just _release_ them? You know, like a normal person?”

“I could have done,” Loras admitted. “But that makes both of us look like attention whores. Especially me seeing as it's my coursework. It’s all a game, Ren. You’ve got to court the media without looking like you’re courting the media. Nobody likes people who self-promote too much.” 

Renly rolled his eyes. “So all these nude photos of celebrities we’ve been treated to over the past few years. What do you reckon? Hacked or secretly released?”

Loras shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “I would guess about fifty fifty though. And with the half that actually were hacked, I reckon it’s safe to say that a vast majority knew they were at risk and just didn’t care that much. Maybe they even secretly wanted them to get published. Bottom line is you don’t take naked pictures of yourself if you aren’t happy for the world to see them. Not if you’re famous.”

Renly grinned, rolling over onto his back and pulling Loras on top of him. “So if I asked you… As your loving and very charming boyfriend...”

Loras shrugged above him. “It’d be nothing nobody hasn’t seen before.”

Renly smiled, toying idly with one of the top buttons on Loras’ shirt. “Sure,” he agreed lightly. “But some things are worth viewing again.” He undid the button with a grin. “And again. And again.”

Loras rolled his eyes. “I get the point,” he said. There was an amused glint though in his eyes as he let Renly slide his shirt from his shoulders.

Renly still wasn’t over how easily Loras let him take his clothes off nowadays and he drummed his fingers rather contentedly across his collarbone. “So,” he grinned, sliding his hands down Loras’ sides to cup his arse through his jeans. “How did you find it this morning?”

Loras raised an eyebrow. “You’re not talking about our therapy session are you?”

Renly’s grin widened. “Nope.”

“It was fine. I sort of forgot about it after a while.”

Renly frowned. Spurred on, he slipped a hand down the back of Loras’ jeans. His fingers found the base of the toy easily and he twisted it gently.

“Still forgotten?” he asked sweetly.

“No.” For a moment Loras seemed to resist it and then his eyes closed blissfully as he let the sensation wash over him. His eyes snapped open though as soon as Renly stopped and with the practised haste of someone used to changing clothes quickly, he kicked off his jeans.

His hands had just moved between them to the button on Renly’s jeans when Renly caught his wrist.

“Wait,” Renly insisted. “Wait.”

“What?”

Renly fought back a grin. “Well we should think about this very carefully. If you take my jeans off too, we may have to write something about it in our new b-”

Loras placed a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, Ren.”

He soon replaced his hand with his mouth. The kisses were hard and determined, aimed more at silencing him than eliciting any pleasure.

Renly didn’t care in the slightest. He was used to having to kiss Loras like a china doll and it was a novelty to feel some resistance against him. Even stranger was being splayed out underneath Loras like this. It felt more than a little odd, so used was he to being the one who pinned Loras down. Loras’ weight was comfortable atop him though. Not too heavy, nor worryingly light either. That alone made Renly smile.

“What’s funny?” Loras murmured breathlessly, his mouth hot and wet against Renly’s ear.

“Absolutely nothing,” Renly told him. For once it was true, Fondly, he reached up to push Loras’ curls out of his face. It was a futile gesture though and they fell back immediately over his eyes.

Loras snorted. Clearly he thought Renly ought to know better by now than to try and force his hair to defy gravity. Amused, he wrenched his curls out of Renly’s reach, lowering his head to kiss his neck. With a little of his old spirit, he bit down gently on the skin there. He'd clearly mellowed with age though because he kissed away the mark he'd left almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, Renly let his head fall back against the pillows as he savoured the press of Loras’ lips against the hollow at the base of his throat. For once, it was good to just lie back and wash his hands of all responsibility, to let Loras worry about what he was comfortable doing. He was so used to anything intimate between them being tinged with concern though that it felt a little odd. It was like those first few days after the end of exams, or the first few days on holiday after a stressful time at work; when it felt incomprehensibly strange to be sat around doing nothing.

He let Loras pull his shirt over his head without a fuss though, forcing himself not to worry even as his jeans and boxers were yanked off.

“Guess we’ll have to write in the book after all,” Loras whispered at his ear, a hand wrapping itself rather tentatively around Renly’s cock.

Renly grinned. “Mmm,” he agreed, his breath hitching involuntarily as Loras’ hand tightened around him. “Maybe I’ll write that next time it ought to be a little more fair..” Pointedly, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of Loras’ boxers and slid them down too. “That’s better.”

Loras didn’t complain but Renly did note that he instantly shifted his weight atop of him, unwrapping his fingers from around Renly’s cock and pressing himself against him so that it would be difficult now to get a hand between them. It was a warning, Renly knew. A warning not to try and touch him. Loras was hard against his skin now though and every instinct Renly had in him told him to ignore the warning and touch him anyway. His cock would be warm and hard in his palm and an illogical part of him just knew that Loras would enjoy it despite his evident reservations.

It took Loras kissing him to jolt him to his senses and in a desperate effort to resist temptation, Renly wound both his hands securely into his curls, anchoring him to him. His hair at least was safe to touch. It had been blond; it had been brunette; it had been both long and short, both frizzy and silky soft. But not once in their turbulent relationship had Loras begrudged him touching his hair.

It was blissful torture though. Every time Loras shifted on top of him, his cock slid across his stomach. Sometimes it even brushed his own and that truly was sweet agony. Several times Renly had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself offering to flip Loras over and blow him.

Instead he settled for reaching round him again. Gently, he pulled Loras’ arse cheeks apart, his fingers finding the glass base of the toy very easily. He twisted it, harder this time though, and he felt rather than heard the low groan that came from Loras’ throat. It reverberated through both of their chests, a deep thrum that was somehow both arousing and soothing at the same time.

“Do you like that?” Renly murmured.

Loras just nodded, burying his face in the crook of Renly’s neck. His cock answered too though and a shiver went through Renly to feel a bead of wetness against his stomach as Loras’ cock pushed against him.

That was more of a proper answer than the nod, Renly thought, and he turned his attention back to his arse with renewed vigour. Grasping the glass base more firmly this time, he slowly began to pull. Tilting it gently, his own heart skipped a beat as heard the telling gasp that escaped Loras’ mouth as soon as he’d found his prostate. He went even more slowly from then on, pulling it centimetre by centimetre as he listened intently to Loras’ breathing.

It wasn’t a particularly large plug though and Renly was almost disappointed when the tapered end slid into his hand all too soon. That disappointment evaporated though as soon as he’d twisted out from underneath Loras and moved to kneel beside him. Loras’ arse was still stretched wide, deliciously and invitingly so. Unable to help himself, Renly ran a finger around his entrance before sliding it in. Unsurprisingly, he was met with no resistance and so he added another, investigating carefully until he found Loras’ prostate again.

He kept his first touch gentle, brushing the tender spot inside him ever so delicately with the very tips of his fingers. Loras shuddered even at that though, and Renly had to grin as he increased the pressure, massaging gently but firmly. It had been so long since he’d been allowed to do this that he was determined to make it good until Loras inevitably told him to stop.

Indeed, he didn’t have to wait long for Loras’ head to snap up from where he’d had it rested on his arms. He stilled his fingers instantly and waited for Loras to tell him he’d had enough.

Loras took a deep breath before he spoke and when he did, it wasn't to say the words that Renly had been expecting. “Do you want to have sex?”

Renly twisted, their gaze locking in mid-air. “Do you?” 

Loras took another shuddery breath, his usually brown eyes almost black. “Part of me does.”

Renly grinned. “I can tell,” he admitted.

Loras allowed himself a small smile, propping himself up on his elbows. “We shouldn’t,” he said quietly, more to himself than to Renly. “Should we?”

Renly shrugged. “Whatever you want, Lor.”

Loras only briefly scowled at the shortening of his name. “Do you want to?”

Renly paused a little awkwardly. That was a risky question that Loras had asked him. If he said yes, it could be taken as pressurising. If he said no, however, it could be taken as insulting. Faced with two rather unpalatable options, he decided to go with honesty.

“Course I do,” Renly told him. “If I’m honest, I always want you. Twenty four, seven if you must know.”

Loras sat back on his haunches, an odd expression on his face. “Fuck it,” he said eventually.

Renly felt his brow furrow. It took a few moments to actually comprehend the decision that Loras had made and then he didn’t really know what to do. He felt very much like he ought to talk Loras out of it and yet no words were coming out of his mouth. He supposed he'd been dry too long to mount any serious resistance here.

“You’ll stop if it hurts?”

Renly laughed, moving so that he could sit back against the headboard of the bed. “It’s not going to hurt, Loras. That’s very unlikely.” That was true enough. It shouldn’t hurt unless Loras worked himself up into a state. Loras didn’t need to know that though. It would probably turn the possibility of him working himself into a state into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It only took Renly a few moments to find an unopened box of condoms in Loras’ bedside table, a little longer though to actually put one on. He supposed it was one of those things you never forgot how to do, like riding a bike perhaps, and yet his fingers felt a little rusty as he rolled it down over himself. It didn’t help either that he could see Loras watching him out of the corner of his eye. Knowing his luck, Loras would change his mind just as he was ready, and so Renly crossed his fingers as he rummaged around in the drawer again for a very dusty bottle of lube.

Loras remained silent though and Renly had to fight back a grin when he was as ready as he was going to get. A little joyously, he patted his lap and leant back against the headboard. “Come on then,” he said.

“Like that?”

“You’ll like it here.”

Loras didn’t seem convinced but he shifted onto Renly’s lap, his face betraying his uncertainty.

Renly took his expression as a challenge. Sat here, Loras would be the perfect height for him to kiss. There was three or four inches difference between their heights when standing, inches which Loras gained by sitting on his thighs. With Loras here, it would as easy as simply leaning forward, and Renly would make sure Loras knew it.

“You ready?” Renly asked.

Loras shrugged, which Renly took as a yes. Gently, he took hold of Loras’ hips and guided him into the right position. The nervous energy between them was almost tangible as Loras hovered above him and Renly acted quickly to prevent any last minute incidents of cold feet. Firmly, he pushed into him, keeping the pressure on Loras’ hips and forcing him to sit down onto him.

It was as easy as Renly had known it would be and yet the surprise on Loras’ face was almost comical. Apparently it hadn’t been obvious to Loras that putting something in would be easy when you’d just taken something of a similar size out.

“Well you already did most of the work yourself, this morning,” Renly pointed out with a small laugh. He didn’t comment on the fact that Loras clearly found it easier to relax for a glass toy than he did for him. Nor would he ever.

Gently, Renly tilted him forward and wrapped his arms around his chest. He knew how poor Loras’ sense of rhythm was and he’d already accepted that he would probably have to guide most of his movements. For the moment though, he just held him.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Loras nodded, tilting his face up to be kissed. “You know,” he murmured when they parted. “I’m not sure now why I worried so much about this. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

Renly smiled, a proper smile that spread up to the corners of his eyes without him willing it to. “Yeah,” he breathed. “It does.”

It didn’t matter that Renly had the odd feeling he’d said those words before. This time, he would make them true.


End file.
